Family Autobiography College Essay 2010

I am a daughter. I am a younger sister. I am an aunt. I am a granddaughter. I am a great-granddaughter. I was a foster child. I was young. I was naive. I am growing up. I am learning. I am what I am. My story is made by the people around me and who I was placed with. For a certain amount of time in your life your story is written by other people, and you don't have any say. You are more of a spectator while other people are telling you what to do, and have people who 'hold your hand while you learn to write. My life began when I was in the womb of my mother who was unmarried and unstable. My family, as is everyone’s, is very interesting. I had an older sister who was a year and a month older than I. And who was also born to a different father. My mother was twenty-one years old when I was born. My father was in and out of the picture and was 22 years old. My family consists of my dad’s dad who is "pop-pop" to me and who is currently 67, my mom’s mom who is my "mom-mom" who is currently 60, and my aunt Mel who is currently 36 years old. While my mom was pregnant with me, she had lived with my dad’s friend because she had nowhere to go. I was born into an already dysfunctional family, with my mother not being married, and my sister living with my "step-grandmother" (Memmy) and Pappy who is my mom’s dad but had gotten divorced from my mom-mom a while back. After I was born, my mother and I lived with my pop-pop for two years. These are the years of my life that I don't remember, but I do know from family videos and whatnot, that my dad was in my life at the age of two because he was at a birthday party of mine. I know at some point while I was younger my dad beat my mom so bad that he broke her nose and went to jail. We had then moved in with my mom-mom until I left 2nd grade. My mom couldn't take living there with mom-mom because who wants to live with rules and with their parents their whole life? My mother had then fallen in love with someone named Doug. My mom and he were pretty happy together. Doug had eventually turned into my step-father when my mom and he got married in 1998. I remember the wedding pretty well. I was in the wedding, and I was the flower girl, and my sister was the ring bearer and she was mad because I got the better job. My mom and he had a terrible relationship, but from what I can remember, I had a pretty great life. I had an in-ground pool, animals of all sorts, and I am pretty sure I thoroughly enjoyed my life. Now that I think back to it, I would remember sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework and have him walk past and pull my hair and call me stupid. When I would be walking out of the house down the steps, he would come out behind me and kick me so hard in the butt I would feel dizzy. Also when they would argue I would end up sleeping in my closet because I was afraid. At that age, I thought all of those things were normal, but now that I am older, I know that they are not. I had not suspected anything about my mom and Doug’s relationship until one day I walked into the living room and had his hands around my mother’s neck. I was terrified and screamed at the top of my lungs for him to let her go. My neighbors had heard my ear-piercing cry, had called the police, and the next thing I knew my life was going to change forever and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Seeing the red and blue lights flashing through my window is something I will never forget. Watching the police walk around my house and asking me questions is a vivid memory that to me, is hard to remember. Realizing the fact that my step-father, who I thought loved my mother and me, was abusive physically and mentally was heartbreaking. While they were questioning my mother and Doug, they had to do something with me, for the time being. My mom suggested me going to stay with my babysitter for a few days, so I did. My foster mom's name was Shawnie, and her husband’s name is Nick. They had two children a few years younger than me, Trey, the oldest who is now 14, and Charis who was about 3 or 4 years old. It was okay staying with them. Then I heard some news. I was told that my mom was an alcoholic and that she had to get better and get her own place before I could live with her again. That news was really hard for me to handle. Here I was, a helpless 9 years old lost in such a big world without my mom. I was only supposed to be living with my foster family for a few weeks or a month, but it ended up being over a year. It was really hard for me to change my patterns of life to live with another family. I had a lot of new rules to pertain to and my new foster family went to church, and I had to start going with them. Little did I know the relationships I made in the church would be my lifelong best friends. Growing close to this family changed my life forever. I got to see my mom on weekly visits in a small little room and children and youth services in Reading. As these visits went along they would tell me that my mom passed her alcohol tests. Every night at home, I would pray that my mom would get better and that I would be able to live with her again. One visit my mom told me she had found a new guy and that he was very kind, and different than Doug. Finally, after living with my foster parents for a few years, I was told I could move back with my mom. My prayers have finally been answered. In 2001, at the age of 11, I moved into a house with my mom and her boyfriend Aaron. Things were different. I didn't see as much drinking as before when I went into foster care, but I still saw a lot. She must've someway snuck herself around the pee tests so that it looked like she hadn't drank. Things were good when I lived with Doug. I was growing up, going through puberty, and learning a lot about life. In 2005 when I was 14 we moved out of our house because the rent became too high. I had to change schools and leave all of my friends behind. At this time I stopped going to church, so I didn't have any friends. The next couple of years are a real blur to me but I will try to evaluate them the best I can.

At some point soon, my mom and her boyfriend Aaron started drinking a lot. I would be home alone all the time, and they would come home at two o'clock in the morning completely wasted. And now being in middle school I knew a little bit more about drinking and how it wasn't good for you. I would get so upset at my mom and tell her and beg her not to go out and drink anymore. Soon enough, my mom went to jail for the first time. That was so hard for me. Everything I knew about life was crumbling. The person I looked up to the most let me down. It was right around the holidays and I've never had to deal with this before. I've never lost a loved one to death- or jail. I would write to my mom and she would call me sometimes on the phone, and tell me how she was. That was one of the first Christmases I didn't spend with her. It was just Aaron and I. Then after a couple of weeks Aaron would leave the house and not come home for a couple of days, and I would be alone. I didn't know what to do. I then moved into my friend’s house with her and her family, so I could have someone who took care of me. I would write in my journal every night how hard it was to be without my mom. I specifically remember writing I rather have her here to argue with, than not have her here at all. In about 3 months my mom got out of jail and she, Aaron, and I moved to a townhouse in 2005. I started going to my old church again, and I was still at the same school and everything, but moving was never easy for me. Life was all right. I was getting passable grades, but my mom still came home at late hours of the night and drank until she would pass out in our living room. Once again, I remember my mom going to jail and having to live with Aaron, but he wasn't home much. So I moved in with my friend Christina and her family. I was welcomed once again into another family’s home. As some time went on I would stop by my old house where Aaron was still living to check on my animals, and here he was dating someone else while living in my mom’s house! But things with my mom never got easier. Having to go and visit her in the nasty place called prison. Walking into the dreadful place where I didn't even want to touch the handles to get into the place. The seats were old and worn. I had to go over to the security guard and sign in. Sit in the rounded chairs with the filthy walls and wait to hear my name called. I wait for door number five, to hear the click and it unlocks. I walk into a tiny room and wait for the next door to UN click. I then walk to the visitation room where I see her through the dirty layered glass, and the cold metal chairs to sit on, I would sit there and talk with my mom about life through the greasy telephones. That was the hardest thing for me. Leaving my mom in that place every time I would walk away was rough. My mom by then had left Aaron and was dating Justin. Justin was a crack head and would get high in our basement and bring his grungy friends around and they would hit on me, and I would feel so uncomfortable. One school night I was sleeping in my bed, and around 4 a.m. I hear banging on my wall and so I go to the bathroom and I open the door, and my mom was covered in blood and bruises. Justin had his hand over my mom’s mouth so she couldn't make any noise, but she managed to say call the cops. Justin got scared and ran. He took a crowbar to our power box, so we couldn't use our home phone to call. He then took off in his truck. My mom was sitting on her bed with two black eyes and blood everywhere. She told me the story of what happened, and she told me she thought she was going to die. My mom's boyfriend almost beat her to death. That was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life, and one of the biggest grudges I hold, and ever will hold. The police came and took my mom and me to the hospital since I didn't want her going alone. I missed school that day to take care of my mom and sit at the hospital with her. With my mom in and out of jail, I remember at one point my mom got out of jail and I started moving my things from Christina’s house to my mom’s house, and EXACTLY one week later she was back in jail, and I had to move my things back in with Christina. My senior year I moved in with another family, and that was enjoyable. Then in the middle of my senior year, they were moving and wouldn't be able to fit me in their house so I moved back in with Christina. My mom got out of jail before I came to college, but I knew that she wasn't capable of taking care of me, because she was barely capable of taking care of herself. So I stayed living with Christina. Eventually, things with my mom started getting better. She wasn't going to jail and missing the holidays anymore. She was still drinking, but she was making an effort to be a part of our family once again after all of her mistakes. Our whole family is still living life and trying to deal with things. My mom is still with Justin and he is clean of coke. I still don't know my father and I would die to know him and meet him again.

If I could pick one person who contributed to my family, I have got to say that it was my mom especially since she was the only family member there for me. She made the money; she took care of me, etc. But the whole going to church thing was my decision, and sometimes my mom-mom would take me to her church, but I was a very independent child and grew up way too fast for my good. And the only bad thing I see about my mom taking all the tasks upon herself is that she turned into an alcoholic and I never saw her after school because she worked third shift, and then would go out to the bars afterward.

Since I never knew my dad really, my mom once again had the power in our family. But if I had to say something about her relationships, I would say that she allowed herself to be walked all over, because she didn't know any better, and didn't want to be left by the guys in her life.

I think previous generations have had a huge impact on how I grew up. Whenever I would bring things up to my mom, she would always relate things to her and "in my day". Things like getting a cell phone, or getting my nails done, or when I told her she was never there for me, she would say her mom was never there for her or helped her with anything, so she expected me to do the same. I know for a fact that my children will never have to go through what I went through. I want them to live a happy life and not have to grow up to fast because it is painful. My husband will always be there for my children, so they will always have a stable mother and father relationship.

In my family, I have one half-sister as a sibling. As I said before she never lived with me, so when we were younger we were closer. We would spend the summers at each other’s house, and then we started to grow up and grow apart, and now she is married and has two kids. I was always treated as the baby because I was the last born and since my sister didn't live with us, I was treated like the only child, and spoiled and loved more than my sister. (From my point of view at least). I know that my sister would have a completely different view of our family because of her spot in our family and our age difference, and she didn't have to experience all the things I had to with my mom going to jail and all.

As I said earlier in my paper, my mom was twenty-one when she had me, and my dad was twenty-two. I know that they were not ready to be parents. That’s why they kind of gave my sister away because my mom was not able or ready to take care of another life other than her own. My mom had no morals or anything that she tried to drill into my head. Since she was a drinker, all she cared about most of the time was herself and what she did. Not too much about me. The only issue my mother and I had about parenting is when I got older and I realized she was choosing alcohol over me, and that hurt my feelings. I told her it’s not right and if she doesn’t stop drinking that I would cut her out of my life completely. I feel as if-then when I told her that, she started to hide her drinking more than having it out in the open. The rest of my family agrees with me that if she didn't stop drinking we wouldn't have a family anymore, so now I know she is ashamed of her alcoholism.

In my family with my mom, we never had family meals because she worked from 3 to eleven pm. So as soon as I would get home from school, she would be leaving for work and I would be in bed by the time she got off of work and by the time she would get home I would be sleeping. I had a journal and I would write down a lot of my feelings. Also, my church friends are like a family to me. They have always been there for me, and I was always able to tell them anything and everything, and they would comfort me and give me good advice. I found out about sexuality and relationships on my own. Learned through my relationships and health classes.

The beginning of my paper lists every kind of major crisis I went through. Drinking and substance abuse and power issues are a huge part of my family and my mom’s life. Her alcoholism has made me know I never want to be like her, so I learned from her mistakes.

My whole life, up until about two years I was struggling with forgiving my mom for treating me the way she did my whole life. Putting me second after alcohol and after the man in her life. I have been also struggling with forgiving her boyfriend Justin for almost killing my mom. I've been able to forgive and forget almost completely with God's help and forgiveness.

I know that I am the way I am because of my mother’s poor decisions. If she didn't make me see what alcohol does to a person and a family, I would probably be out in the world partying like every other college girl. I learned from my church family that it's not right to sleep around or do any worldly things. My mother has made me who I am, a great influential person, who wants to change the world, because of her terrible choices. I know that I will someday when I have children, be a stay at home mom, or maybe work part-time when I have kids because I always want to be there for them, and make sure they know that I wouldn't choose anything else over them and that I love them so much.

My family of origin I am mostly still in contact if you mean my older family members. My great-grandma and grandpa on my mom’s side are still alive and I talk to them on the phone once in a while. Great-grandma will send me brownies to school and write me birthday cards. I don't know anyone else really on my dad’s side of the family, except my pop-pop who I see almost 2 or 3 times a month since he lives close to Kutztown.