This is my personal statement for the Common App. Please let me know if you have any suggestions or content/grammatical corrections. Thank you!
Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Curls
Early in the morning, when the sky is still soaked in hues of grey and streetlights breathe gold light into the damp fog, I arise from sleep to begin my loath, daily task. Stumbling to the bathroom with bleary eyes, I glare at the mirror under the scrutiny of radiant fluorescent lights. A cloud of frizzy red curls encircles my livid face. With trembling fingers, I snatch a large comb and hastily begin working through countless knots and tangles, cursing every time a chunk of my untamable hair rips out. My jaw tightens and my fists clench as I wrestle a scrunchie through the thicket of curls atop my head. Finished, my gaze returns to the mirror and my eyes meet my reflection's. My thoughts echo a line that I have repeated to myself over the past five years: I really hate my hair.
It wasn't the mere appearance of my wild red hair that I struggled to accept. It was all the ways in which my unruly hair conflicted with my timid personality. My hair was conspicuous. Distinctly noticeable. I shuddered at the thought of standing out in a crowd. My insecurity escalated with each passing year and worsened as I withdrew into a shell of shyness and restraint. However, it wasn't until years later that I learned the significance of my crazy hair.
Throughout elementary and middle school, I struggled to conquer this timidity and introversion. After my best friend moved to the other side of the country in third grade, I quickly withdrew my prior outgoing nature. I had spent so much time with her since kindergarten that I realized I had never familiarized myself enough with the rest of the people in my grade. Consequently, I was left confused and anxious, unsure of where I now stood amongst my classmates.
While I gradually fell deeper and deeper into a void of reticence, I made a change to my appearance: I tied back my hair.
Realizing that I was now ashamed of my distinguishable frizzy hair, I attempted to hide it from view in a ponytail. For years I was terrified to wear my hair down in public, expecting others to ridicule my curls, so I confined them in cages of hair scrunchies and self-doubt. My shyness grew parallel to my ever-frizzier hair; as my curls thickened, I progressively became more conscious of my appearance and timid nature. However, everything changed when I started high school.
"So pretty! Is that your natural hair?"
"Wow, what amazing hair!"
"You should wear your hair like that more!"
My eyes widened in shock every time someone commented on my hair. Whereas I was expecting odd stares, I received kind compliments on the day my new friends finally persuaded me to wear my hair out of a ponytail. I was beyond flattered; I was speechless and overjoyed. The moment school ended, I ran to a mirror and saw my usual pale, freckled head encircled by a blaze of red curls. The only difference was the beaming smile etched across my face.
From that day on I wore my hair in its natural form, rich with all the curls and frizz I've come to love. Day by day my confidence grew. As I began to embrace my curls, my individuality blossomed, and I no longer saw my qualities as a hindrance but as a gift. Thus, my peers quickly noticed my growing gregarious nature and increased participation. Ultimately, I discovered that my transition from middle school to high school had manifested a new identity. I was not just the "girl with red curls." I was the person who accepted herself, the person who looked in the mirror and smiled because everyone is unique. No two people have the same skin, eyes, hair, ears, or smile. And that's beautiful.
Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Curls
Early in the morning, when the sky is still soaked in hues of grey and streetlights breathe gold light into the damp fog, I arise from sleep to begin my loath, daily task. Stumbling to the bathroom with bleary eyes, I glare at the mirror under the scrutiny of radiant fluorescent lights. A cloud of frizzy red curls encircles my livid face. With trembling fingers, I snatch a large comb and hastily begin working through countless knots and tangles, cursing every time a chunk of my untamable hair rips out. My jaw tightens and my fists clench as I wrestle a scrunchie through the thicket of curls atop my head. Finished, my gaze returns to the mirror and my eyes meet my reflection's. My thoughts echo a line that I have repeated to myself over the past five years: I really hate my hair.
It wasn't the mere appearance of my wild red hair that I struggled to accept. It was all the ways in which my unruly hair conflicted with my timid personality. My hair was conspicuous. Distinctly noticeable. I shuddered at the thought of standing out in a crowd. My insecurity escalated with each passing year and worsened as I withdrew into a shell of shyness and restraint. However, it wasn't until years later that I learned the significance of my crazy hair.
Throughout elementary and middle school, I struggled to conquer this timidity and introversion. After my best friend moved to the other side of the country in third grade, I quickly withdrew my prior outgoing nature. I had spent so much time with her since kindergarten that I realized I had never familiarized myself enough with the rest of the people in my grade. Consequently, I was left confused and anxious, unsure of where I now stood amongst my classmates.
While I gradually fell deeper and deeper into a void of reticence, I made a change to my appearance: I tied back my hair.
Realizing that I was now ashamed of my distinguishable frizzy hair, I attempted to hide it from view in a ponytail. For years I was terrified to wear my hair down in public, expecting others to ridicule my curls, so I confined them in cages of hair scrunchies and self-doubt. My shyness grew parallel to my ever-frizzier hair; as my curls thickened, I progressively became more conscious of my appearance and timid nature. However, everything changed when I started high school.
"So pretty! Is that your natural hair?"
"Wow, what amazing hair!"
"You should wear your hair like that more!"
My eyes widened in shock every time someone commented on my hair. Whereas I was expecting odd stares, I received kind compliments on the day my new friends finally persuaded me to wear my hair out of a ponytail. I was beyond flattered; I was speechless and overjoyed. The moment school ended, I ran to a mirror and saw my usual pale, freckled head encircled by a blaze of red curls. The only difference was the beaming smile etched across my face.
From that day on I wore my hair in its natural form, rich with all the curls and frizz I've come to love. Day by day my confidence grew. As I began to embrace my curls, my individuality blossomed, and I no longer saw my qualities as a hindrance but as a gift. Thus, my peers quickly noticed my growing gregarious nature and increased participation. Ultimately, I discovered that my transition from middle school to high school had manifested a new identity. I was not just the "girl with red curls." I was the person who accepted herself, the person who looked in the mirror and smiled because everyone is unique. No two people have the same skin, eyes, hair, ears, or smile. And that's beautiful.