My Identity Essay

1292 words - 6 pages

Have you ever thought about who you are? What really, really makes you, you? Everything you've come across in your personal journey on your own rocky path changes you. It makes you. Sometimes I forget what really makes me. Why I'm on this long, seemingly endless journey myself. One's identity is solely themselves. Whether they find themselves in music or friendship or even sports. So what has shaped my identity?
I was born just like everybody else, but I assure you I will not bore you with grueling details, just the ones that are important to my story. I have both my parents and live in a quaint little house that just so happens to sit in a famous river town thanks to a classic fiction ...view middle of the document...

I was terrible and it seemed I was not the type for such a sport. But I persisted and so came my will and determination.
Again I grew and moved on to middle school. I thought middle schoolers were the top dogs and I walked in that way on that very first day, but I walked out realizing that I may be bigger than the elementary schoolers but middle school had its own social ladders,. and sixth grade, was the bottom. But once again I drug on and on through the days still cherishing my beloved sport. I exceeded academically impressing my teachers, and my form gradually grew to perfection in volleyball. I was team captain four seasons in a row by the time I hit eighth grade. I kept going to that school through the rest of middle school and planned to suffer through it for the next four years as well. Until the school closed.
That summer we battled over what school I'd be sent to next, and then I wound up here. Sitting at a computer typing away at my online courses. I sit in this little room with 10 other kids I’ve grown to consider my siblings. The school sits in the middle of nowhere, with two big 'ole grain bins on one side and the smallest town west of the Mississippi on the other. I got here coming from those preppy uniform schools with the snooty rich kids and the country in these people came like a slap in the face. I quickly learned that shootin' a deer on Saturday before I ever dreamed of getting out of bed, and going mudding -in the actual mud I might add- was simply how things were done here. There was no north face, no pleated skirts, no lattes. You wore your old jeans and whatever shirt was clean. I didn't fit in at all and the first few days were cruel but I morphed and now that's just what I know, I still don't get out of bed early and I certainly will not give up my favorite clothes for a t-shirt but I had my compromises, and they are like a second family now.
I see my old friends at church, which has become a second home. I go every Sunday afternoon to the old church and climb up the creaky stairs into the miniscule youth room and sit with some of my closest friends. Church has always been a large part of my life. I grew up being drug there every Sunday morning, sitting in the back pew eating some sort of candy to...

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