Who I Am Essay Example

  • Category: Life, Myself,
  • Pages: 5
  • Words: 1298
  • Published: 05 July 2020
  • Copied: 147


Who I am or who I am seen as by a person depends on that person's relationship with me. If I know you and trust you, you will be able to understand me. I don’t let everyone get too close to me. There are people I have known my entire life that don’t know me at all because I have not allowed them to know me. I can be a difficult person. I can be difficult to read at times. I can be difficult to understand. I can be difficult to get to know. Some of these are just self-preservation techniques, but some are just the way I am. However, because I know that I am hard to deal with, I know that the people that make an effort to interact with me or get to know me desperately want to. 

If someone were to summarize my traits, they would be very similar to those that I share a Zodiac sign with. While I don’t necessarily believe that I am this way because of my Zodiac sign, I see the traits associated with Scorpios in myself. I am persuasive, which some would call manipulative. I am secretive. I am not a trusting person. Trust must be proven to me. I protect myself to the best of my ability, whether that is physically or emotionally.

I am an intense person, which intimidates some people. Individuals who have been hurt are drawn to me by my ability to understand pain. Most of my traits seem negative, but there is a whole other side to me. I care about people more than anyone will ever know. I am passionate about the things and people I care about. I would give my last of anything to help someone unless they hurt me. I find myself being cruel and unforgiving in situations where I have been betrayed. 

I believe all these traits come from experiences in life. I learned to be persuasive in order to mediate fights between my drunken parents. I learned to be secretive because I witnessed that people like to drag skeletons out of closets when they are angry or upset. One thing that impacted my life growing up was that my parents were continually giving me false hope. They would say we could do something or would do something and it would never happen.

Trips, vacations, telling me I could pick what movie we were going to watch at the theater, what we were going to have for dinner, telling me I could name the cow we rescued. They would promise me that these things would happen, and they never would. Now, I can't handle someone breaking a promise. If someone says something may or might happen, and it doesn't, that's okay, and I won't be mad, but if they say something will happen, I expect it to happen. Unless there is a real, understandable reason, I will become angry to the point that I won't want to make plans with you. I will feel like you are not reliable. I won't trust your words after that until you prove yourself worthy of my trust. The trauma caused by these false promises made by my parents all throughout my childhood has manifested itself into myself being merciless in times where promises are broken. 

My Past Experience 

My past is riddled with trauma and unfairness. I have been through things that no one should ever experience. My parents would try to protect me from getting my feelings hurt by not telling me bad news. I would have to notice something and ask about it before I was told. My grandmother's dog, Lola, died when I was around 6 and I wasn't told that she had passed until I went to my grandmother's, saw she was missing, looked all over the house for her, and then went and told my mom that she must have gotten out of the house and we need to look for her.

I found out my stepdad was not my real dad because of a man I barely know. He asked me what my real dad's name was and when I answered with my step dad's name, he said, "No. Not your stepdad, your real dad." I found out from someone that is practically a stranger why my siblings didn't have the same bond with me that they did with their actual younger sibling, why it was just different when things came to me, why I would never be able to have the connection they had with each other. My mom hiding the truth from me has caused me to go searching for answers. I ask a lot of questions. Questions most people wouldn't dare ask someone. I'm not ashamed to ask anyone questions because knowledge is important to me. Knowledge is power, and I want to learn as much as I can in my life so I may never be presented with a situation I have no knowledge about.

There have been times where I put myself in bad situations. I have been held at gunpoint multiple times by multiple people. I was sexually assaulted. I could go on and on. I won't allow myself to be in these positions again because of the knowledge I gained from being in these situations. One reason why knowledge is so important to me is because it's my ticket out. I was told from a very young age that I had to do my best in school because there were kids that would be able to pay out of pocket for college and I would never have those advantages.

My family doesn't come from money, so I have learned to live without. I didn't ask for everything I wanted as a kid or even now because I know my mother can't afford it. I learned to like second-hand stores because it was what we had to do. I wasn't able to get a whole new wardrobe every school year. I was lucky if I was able to get enough new clothes to last the first week. My mom has many downfalls, but she always made sure I had what I needed even when that meant working two jobs, also when that meant moving 8 hours away from me when I was 16 to find work that could support us. My mom has been the cause of pain in my life many times, but she is also the reason I am strong. She is knocked down or given something new to make right every day, but she keeps going. My mom is the reason I have work ethic. 

Family Issues

I believe that somewhere down my bloodline someone poisoned my family. We all have deep-seated issues. One of my uncles goes crazy when he drinks alcohol and has been to jail more times than my family cares to tell me. He also has mental issues and scars all over his body from being in a fire when he was young. Another uncle has drank everyday since I've known him. My last uncle was on crack and was homeless at one time. My mother is also an alcoholic.

She has tried to stop drinking many times, but alcohol always finds itself back in her life. My real dad tried to kill me by pushing my mother down the stairs when she was eight months pregnant with me; then he didn't come home two weeks after I was born. He came back when I was two and kidnapped my mom and I. Now, he is in jail for drug trafficking. I have terrible anger issues and experience all emotions besides deep sadness and anger at a muted level.  All of this doesn't happen for no reason. Most families have black sheep, but my whole is a herd of black sheep. 

I'm not sure why my family and my life in this way, but the only reason I have gotten through it is Kyli Jo. She has always been there for me, even when we weren't on good terms. Her family, which is just her and her mom now, is my family. They had taken care of me when I was sick and hurt, and I will be grateful for that for my entire life. I would do anything for her because I know she would do anything for me.