You may ask yourself who is this girl who’s applying to my college? Where does she come from? Why is she the way that she is? On the other hand, your sole concern may be whether this girl is fit to be accepted. For now I’ll disregard the latter and tell more about the girl. I’ll begin by saying that this girl frowns upon anyone who refers to themselves in third person and will continue by making one of the greatest fallacies in literature: shifting point of view.
After sixteen years of living this wonderful life, I’ve become a fairly experienced, somewhat delirious, and largely introverted teenager. I grew up with my grandparents. Grandma and Grandpa cared for me like one of their own, maybe better from what I’ve been told. They couldn’t teach me English, but their persistence to grant me an education has made me proficient in the language. They couldn’t take me to Olive Garden for my birthday, but they make sure I’m never in need of even a pencil. They couldn’t bring back my parents, but they became them. Their unrelenting care for me has taught me that education is truly a treasure, that my wants should never be a priority above my needs, and that even the hardest of trials should never make me bitter. Although I was raised by what I consider the best, I, as an individual, am in dire need of improvement.
The transition from a three-person home to a high school of thousands is like dipping my toes in the ocean before I’ve even tried the pool. Even in my fourth year of high school I find it near impossible to interact with new people. Group projects are like being put into Purgatory, momentary suffering until reaching holiness, which in my case is the completion of the project. I am aware, though, that these assignments are inevitable but due to my OCD, I tend to take hold of all the work to make sure I approve of it. It’s safe to say I’m a burden upon myself.
All in all, my life is far from perfect. Still, I’d like to continue living this imperfect life, and meanwhile attach a college education to it.