Hi everybody! I just wrote my first college app essay and am looking for some help! The way I write tends to be very awkward, so revisions and suggestions are encouraged and appreciated! As of right now, It is over the word limit but, I can fix that later...
The prompt is the following: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Here's my essay!
Up until I was a freshman in high school, I was completely oblivious to the fact that non-heterosexual love and relationships not only exist, but can be healthy and happy. In my experiences, heterosexual labels and relationships are shoved down children's throats, sometimes to the point where hatred against their taught beliefs seeps out of their pores. Students learn in elementary school that princesses marry princes, its "yucky" to have crushes on people of the same gender, and even yuckier to not have a crush at all. Kids are taught it's okay to play games that attack queer sexual orientations in demeaning games including "fag tag" and "smear the queer." To them, it's just a game. In middle school, students learn the mechanics of heterosexual intercourse and the protection required while LGBTQ kids are left in the dark. My experience growing up was no different. I was pigeonholed as being heterosexual, along with everyone else. But there was something different about me, something that I could never understand myself. I had crushes on boys, but didn't want to kiss them. To all of my friends, I was just a "late bloomer," and that I would just have to "wait for the right person." For years I waited, I hope and I prayed that I would wake up and embrace heterosexuality. I would not be labeled or call myself asexual. I would not be that "freak." People that I loved told me that asexuals are celibate nuns and social outcasts. To add put salt on the wound, I have been told on more than one occasions that asexuals aren't real, they do not exist. I'll be the first one to tell you, they do.
I was sitting in a lecture hall when I discovered my sexuality. I was sitting between my two best friends in an air-conditioned room, with the blackout curtains drawn to block out the light of the June sun. At the time, I viewed my seat in the sparsely filled lecture hall as a pathetic prison sentence after being dragged in by my pertinacious friends. I had heard talks like this one before: let's define and discuss bisexuality, pansexuality, polyamory, transgender, asexuality and intersex. Despite my initial resentment, and the repetition of the talk, I was nonetheless fascinated. After each sexuality or gender identity was covered, the floor was open for discussion. People were very open to share personal stories about their sexuality, gender identity, and the resistance that they faced while growing up. About midway through the talk, the room no longer seemed dark and sparsely populated. The room was a celebration of overcoming adversity, and I felt as if I had known everyone in the room for a long time. The talk then transitioned to the topic of asexuality. After a few minutes into the discussion on asexuality, the difference between romance and sexuality was addressed. THEY AREN'T THE SAME THING. Just because there is a romantic attraction to someone, doesn't mean that there is a sexual attraction. In that moment, I had to restrain myself from blurting out "Eureka!" I felt the stars aligning, fireworks launching into the sky, and cliche lightbulbs igniting in my head. All of the sudden the third person asexual that was on the powerpoint slide was not so foreign and virtual. She was sitting in my seat. She is me.
Since that moment, I have "come out" to the people that I love, and the people that love me. While I don't think that my sexual orientation has to be public knowledge, I find myself telling my story again and again. I hope that my story puts a face to asexuality among my peers, so it is not shunned or dismissed. I hope that one day, people will not have to hide their sexuality because of their fear of standing out. I hope that one day, people's stories will stand as building blocks for equality and acceptance. This is why I tell mine.
The prompt is the following: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Here's my essay!
Up until I was a freshman in high school, I was completely oblivious to the fact that non-heterosexual love and relationships not only exist, but can be healthy and happy. In my experiences, heterosexual labels and relationships are shoved down children's throats, sometimes to the point where hatred against their taught beliefs seeps out of their pores. Students learn in elementary school that princesses marry princes, its "yucky" to have crushes on people of the same gender, and even yuckier to not have a crush at all. Kids are taught it's okay to play games that attack queer sexual orientations in demeaning games including "fag tag" and "smear the queer." To them, it's just a game. In middle school, students learn the mechanics of heterosexual intercourse and the protection required while LGBTQ kids are left in the dark. My experience growing up was no different. I was pigeonholed as being heterosexual, along with everyone else. But there was something different about me, something that I could never understand myself. I had crushes on boys, but didn't want to kiss them. To all of my friends, I was just a "late bloomer," and that I would just have to "wait for the right person." For years I waited, I hope and I prayed that I would wake up and embrace heterosexuality. I would not be labeled or call myself asexual. I would not be that "freak." People that I loved told me that asexuals are celibate nuns and social outcasts. To add put salt on the wound, I have been told on more than one occasions that asexuals aren't real, they do not exist. I'll be the first one to tell you, they do.
I was sitting in a lecture hall when I discovered my sexuality. I was sitting between my two best friends in an air-conditioned room, with the blackout curtains drawn to block out the light of the June sun. At the time, I viewed my seat in the sparsely filled lecture hall as a pathetic prison sentence after being dragged in by my pertinacious friends. I had heard talks like this one before: let's define and discuss bisexuality, pansexuality, polyamory, transgender, asexuality and intersex. Despite my initial resentment, and the repetition of the talk, I was nonetheless fascinated. After each sexuality or gender identity was covered, the floor was open for discussion. People were very open to share personal stories about their sexuality, gender identity, and the resistance that they faced while growing up. About midway through the talk, the room no longer seemed dark and sparsely populated. The room was a celebration of overcoming adversity, and I felt as if I had known everyone in the room for a long time. The talk then transitioned to the topic of asexuality. After a few minutes into the discussion on asexuality, the difference between romance and sexuality was addressed. THEY AREN'T THE SAME THING. Just because there is a romantic attraction to someone, doesn't mean that there is a sexual attraction. In that moment, I had to restrain myself from blurting out "Eureka!" I felt the stars aligning, fireworks launching into the sky, and cliche lightbulbs igniting in my head. All of the sudden the third person asexual that was on the powerpoint slide was not so foreign and virtual. She was sitting in my seat. She is me.
Since that moment, I have "come out" to the people that I love, and the people that love me. While I don't think that my sexual orientation has to be public knowledge, I find myself telling my story again and again. I hope that my story puts a face to asexuality among my peers, so it is not shunned or dismissed. I hope that one day, people will not have to hide their sexuality because of their fear of standing out. I hope that one day, people's stories will stand as building blocks for equality and acceptance. This is why I tell mine.