Narrative Essay On Coming Home

Over seven years ago, some random strangers picked me up off the streets. Kidding. I knew these people and I am grateful to call them my aunt and uncle. Growing up, I lived and was raised by every single one of my family members, being passed around as if I am a dish at dinnertime. The last place I called home was in Baltimore, Maryland where I lived with my mother. I have had my fair share of being a mischievous child as my mother was constantly occupied with work and as she was going through one boyfriend after another. Along with her boyfriends came neglect and abuse from them that I will forever carry on. After graduating from middle school, my mother realized that I needed to be in a better living environment and school system. This was

There were rules I had to abide and chores that needed to be completed. I mean, I have always been an organized person, but I felt trapped because these relatives I rarely spoke to other than on holidays were telling me what to do and always bossing me around as if I am some house pet like who do you think you are. School was my escape and I joined every possible organization I could to avoid going home. I had met amazing individuals whom I am blessed to still call my best of friends to this day. Without them I do not know how I could have survived those four years that people say are your best years, which is entirely false, although it does depend on what you make of it. However, as I joined a myriad of organizations and established leadership roles by organizing philanthropic clubs of my own to share with other students, which is where I began to discover my passion for aiding those less fortunate. An interest in a medical related career stemmed through my involvement when I as an opportunity to serve and make a greater impact in the lives of others with my own two hands by not only providing the needs of quality healthcare to those around the world, but also to build meaningful relationships with those I am