Prompt 2: Tell us a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it.
I am a culprit of identity theft. Since I was a little girl, I was fascinated with the idea of being anyone but myself. I stole the lives of others, real or fictional, and relived them in my own imagination. Often in my childhood, I found myself playing dress up, engulfed in the fantasy of living in my own castle, twirling in a bubblegum pink chiffon gown as I wait for my prince to sweep me off my matching pink embellished heels.
My preference of avoiding reality continued into adolescence, where I spent a majority of my free time logging onto online worlds, living life as a virtual penguin or a fairy, among others whom I will never know the true identity of. I thought, "why live my own life when I could live one that is far more interesting and exciting?" But this obsession slowly shaped into something more serious; how I viewed my self worth.
As I grew older, what was once pretend pixilated penguins and fairies were replaced with the stark realities of the people surrounding me. In middle school, I was bullied for the sole reason that I am Asian and had a "funny sounding last name" and my "eyes didn't look right". I asked myself over and over why I couldn't have been the blonde girl who sat next to me in math; surely she had an easier life than I did.
From my perspective, I viewed the widely divergent world and saw beauty in various forms in everyone but myself. I became embarrassed of my race and culture, envying those around me who did not possess the same, seemingly shameful, Asian qualities I had. My life began to appear lower in quality compared to everyone else's. What was once a simple and lighthearted fantasy about princesses morphed into a reality that I could not change; my race.
Recently, I made trustworthy friends close enough to share personal thoughts with, whether they were thoughts issued from deep inner conflict or trivial comments about boys. I began to gain insight on concerns from my friend's perspectives that I would not regularly hear from the trite small talk among my classmates in the hallways. I came to the realization that with different individuals come different tribulations. I am well aware of my own difficulties and my own personal story so far but what about that of the vivacious blonde girl who had sat next to me in math? I realize it is unlikely she had encountered the same troubles as my own, but there were certainly complications in her life that I did not know about. I did not know her story; let alone the possible difficulties she had faced. The conversations I held with others made me realize that it is pointless to covet another's life blindly, especially since it is a life we do not know the full story of.
In all honesty, I do not know the full story of my own life, but I am thankful I have the capability to create for myself a life where I have the choice to do what I love. I learned that we cannot specifically choose our lives, but we can choose whether or not to accept our own and live it to the best of our ability. I strive to live for myself and continue to pursue my aspirations, not anyone else's.
I am a culprit of identity theft. Since I was a little girl, I was fascinated with the idea of being anyone but myself. I stole the lives of others, real or fictional, and relived them in my own imagination. Often in my childhood, I found myself playing dress up, engulfed in the fantasy of living in my own castle, twirling in a bubblegum pink chiffon gown as I wait for my prince to sweep me off my matching pink embellished heels.
My preference of avoiding reality continued into adolescence, where I spent a majority of my free time logging onto online worlds, living life as a virtual penguin or a fairy, among others whom I will never know the true identity of. I thought, "why live my own life when I could live one that is far more interesting and exciting?" But this obsession slowly shaped into something more serious; how I viewed my self worth.
As I grew older, what was once pretend pixilated penguins and fairies were replaced with the stark realities of the people surrounding me. In middle school, I was bullied for the sole reason that I am Asian and had a "funny sounding last name" and my "eyes didn't look right". I asked myself over and over why I couldn't have been the blonde girl who sat next to me in math; surely she had an easier life than I did.
From my perspective, I viewed the widely divergent world and saw beauty in various forms in everyone but myself. I became embarrassed of my race and culture, envying those around me who did not possess the same, seemingly shameful, Asian qualities I had. My life began to appear lower in quality compared to everyone else's. What was once a simple and lighthearted fantasy about princesses morphed into a reality that I could not change; my race.
Recently, I made trustworthy friends close enough to share personal thoughts with, whether they were thoughts issued from deep inner conflict or trivial comments about boys. I began to gain insight on concerns from my friend's perspectives that I would not regularly hear from the trite small talk among my classmates in the hallways. I came to the realization that with different individuals come different tribulations. I am well aware of my own difficulties and my own personal story so far but what about that of the vivacious blonde girl who had sat next to me in math? I realize it is unlikely she had encountered the same troubles as my own, but there were certainly complications in her life that I did not know about. I did not know her story; let alone the possible difficulties she had faced. The conversations I held with others made me realize that it is pointless to covet another's life blindly, especially since it is a life we do not know the full story of.
In all honesty, I do not know the full story of my own life, but I am thankful I have the capability to create for myself a life where I have the choice to do what I love. I learned that we cannot specifically choose our lives, but we can choose whether or not to accept our own and live it to the best of our ability. I strive to live for myself and continue to pursue my aspirations, not anyone else's.