Personal Narrative Analysis

Growing up, I never went through a divorce with my parents and for that I am grateful. However, my life has never been the “typical home” where mom and dad were happily married. In fact, I never had any of that. From before I was even born, my mother and father were separated. However, I do not know if I would have chosen to grow up any differently. I live with my mother in a summer town on the coast of Massachusetts and my father lives in a rural area in southern Vermont. These two places are very different. Having exposure to both places bared me to many different kinds of people and places that I would not have experienced otherwise is something to not take advantage of. Being raised with a father like mine I was always in the car. Whether it be the summer time or winter vacation, I was always being whisked away for one adventure after another. We would drive an hour away to see a waterfall or eighteen hours away to our cabin in Georgia. Long car rides and arguing about which road to take shaped our vacations, but I

I have always believed there is no greater feeling than sitting in a high up place, looking out and being able to see for miles and miles, where it is only the Earth and myself. The more places I go to the more I fall in love with them. In the summer of 2012 I received the validation that traveling for me was my go-to. I was invited to come along with a friend 3,00 miles away to a place that seemed like a whole other world in itself. We started in Seattle, Washington and made our way to a ten-day long vacation to Northern Idaho. It was the first time I had ever traveled on a plane by myself, the first time I had ever traveled across the country; but I remember it was the first time I had felt so content and happy with where I was. I ran down mountains, touched pinecones as big as my face, and felt the dust trickle my eyelashes. Any opportunity that was placed in front of me, I took