I wrote this essay last year as a nonlinear narrative and absolutely loved the idea of using it when i started. over this process though ive begun to doubt it... let me know what you think please!////common app topic of choice essay.
Seventeen-year-old girls are all the same. We're all seventeen, we're all girls, and none of us are perfect.
But what makes me different? How could I possibly stand out? I wake up, go to school, and then have basketball practice. I come home, study, and get as little sleep as necessary to function.
So what sets me apart? Not my grades or accomplishments. They're just measuring sticks, not really who I am. Instead, it's how I handle the things in life that are completely out of my control. When I think about it, it's how we handle life's little random events that set us all apart.
I remember in kindergarten my best friend moved. I didn't know what to do with myself. So, of course, I made a new one. She moved in second grade. I learned two things. When you're little, don't become too attached to things. Also, my best friends really like to move.
Last year I drove four hours to Franklin, Tennessee, slept outside in thirty-seven degree weather, waited in line for ten hours, and met Taylor Swift. The story might be quick, but it means more to me than can be put into words.
I decided to change schools when I reached the ninth grade. For a while, I thought it was the worst decision I had ever made. Now, I know it was the best. My entire freshman year I probably uttered a total of thirteen words to my classmates. To say that I was shy is nothing short of an understatement. It's not that I didn't like them, but I didn't know them. And that was how I used to be. I had to know you and be around you for a while before I would finally crack.
Thank God for basketball.
I was dragged onto the Tuscaloosa Academy Lady Knights basketball team for no reason other than they needed more people. I remember during basketball games I sat there and talked. Talked about completely unrelated things: the people I liked, those I maybe didn't, how excited I was for the next Taylor Swift CD, and how I had come to the conclusion that the people I talked to was like the selective permeability of a membrane. We had just learned about those in biology, and I thought it applied to my brain. It chose whom I talked to, not me.
My brain is no longer selectively permeable. I don't think it ever really was. And like all other seventeen-year-old girls, I'm still not perfect.
I could say I've lived and learned, but I know that's not entirely true. I can name all the presidents, do some trig, and even figure the acceleration of a football. So I've learned. And, of course, I've also lived. But learning from how you're living is something I'm still in the process of doing. I always will be.
Seventeen-year-old girls are all the same. We're all seventeen, we're all girls, and none of us are perfect.
But what makes me different? How could I possibly stand out? I wake up, go to school, and then have basketball practice. I come home, study, and get as little sleep as necessary to function.
So what sets me apart? Not my grades or accomplishments. They're just measuring sticks, not really who I am. Instead, it's how I handle the things in life that are completely out of my control. When I think about it, it's how we handle life's little random events that set us all apart.
I remember in kindergarten my best friend moved. I didn't know what to do with myself. So, of course, I made a new one. She moved in second grade. I learned two things. When you're little, don't become too attached to things. Also, my best friends really like to move.
Last year I drove four hours to Franklin, Tennessee, slept outside in thirty-seven degree weather, waited in line for ten hours, and met Taylor Swift. The story might be quick, but it means more to me than can be put into words.
I decided to change schools when I reached the ninth grade. For a while, I thought it was the worst decision I had ever made. Now, I know it was the best. My entire freshman year I probably uttered a total of thirteen words to my classmates. To say that I was shy is nothing short of an understatement. It's not that I didn't like them, but I didn't know them. And that was how I used to be. I had to know you and be around you for a while before I would finally crack.
Thank God for basketball.
I was dragged onto the Tuscaloosa Academy Lady Knights basketball team for no reason other than they needed more people. I remember during basketball games I sat there and talked. Talked about completely unrelated things: the people I liked, those I maybe didn't, how excited I was for the next Taylor Swift CD, and how I had come to the conclusion that the people I talked to was like the selective permeability of a membrane. We had just learned about those in biology, and I thought it applied to my brain. It chose whom I talked to, not me.
My brain is no longer selectively permeable. I don't think it ever really was. And like all other seventeen-year-old girls, I'm still not perfect.
I could say I've lived and learned, but I know that's not entirely true. I can name all the presidents, do some trig, and even figure the acceleration of a football. So I've learned. And, of course, I've also lived. But learning from how you're living is something I'm still in the process of doing. I always will be.
