Essay about The Person Who Most Influenced Me
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It is easy to say that a parent has had the most influence on your life, they taught you how to walk, talk, drink and among many other things hopefully right from wrong. A good parent is there for you most of your life, quick to lend a hand or offer advice (unless it’s your mother-in-law) when needed, but the trait that impacted my life the most was the integrity my father exhibited with me and the people lucky enough to have met him.
My Father was born to a farmer in NJ a few short years after the depression, learned the lessons that only hard labor can teach from a young age. Working on the farm is not easy, the days are long, the chores are extremely physical and dirty and if you’re a kid all this happens before you even go off to…show more content…
If you were to ask my father how he made the tough decisions in life he would tell you it was simple. Well maybe it is when you have an uncompromising set of ideals and sure sense of what is fair. I can remember when I was only 10 years old and my father was offered a high level position with his company but the position would require for us to move to Texas. We lived in a small town with a great school and lots of friends, my mother and father were both involved in the volunteer Fire Department and I think I knew everyone in town. Everyone looked out for each other and most important we felt safe. My dad easily turned down the position and never regretted it, although I am certain on a professional level he would have enjoyed the challenge. To this day I often think back to that sacrifice when I am analyzing similar options in my career. The first priority in my life is creating a stable nurturing environment for my family, not buying them the most video games. My Dad did ok making money and supporting our family, we had a nice house and plenty of toys and TV’s but what I remember the most was that he was home every night and weekend to enjoy them with us not at the office.
My father is a big football fan and even wrote in my baby book that he hoped I would grow up loving the game as much as he does. Well his dream came true as I am a self proclaimed football junkie. A few months prior to my Freshman year of High School I announced I would be
The infamous question “Glass half full, or half empty?” Many people believe that this one simple question tells a lot about a person and how they view life, but I can’t help but disagree.This is a clear case of a black or white logical fallacy, where there is no grey, only black or white. I believe that this is a circumstantial question. It really depends. How thirsty are you? Did you fill the glass to the halfway point, or did you fill the whole glass and drink half? There are so many scenarios, yet we try to fit every person into just one of two categories. The optimists; those who see the glass as half full, and the pessimist; those whom see the glass as half empty. The optimist is often portrayed as the happy-go-lucky person, always happy and having high expectations, always expecting the best. But I don’t believe that having high expectations means you will be happier. Quite the contrary really. If your expectations are too high, it will only hurt worse when something goes wrong.
I also believe that no one is born an optimist or pessimist, but rather that people’s life experiences shape their opinions and views on life; turning you into the optimist or the pessimist. The person with the high expectations, or the person that sets the bar too low.
You see, when I was younger, I was always happy, always had high expectations. Me and my mom were super close, and I believed that nothing could ever change that. Which only made her diagnosis of brain cancer all the more devastating. I thought that we were inseparable, but the tumor and medication affected her emotions. She became a different person, creating an invisible barrier between us. Suddenly I found myself living with a ghost; only a shadow of the person my mother used once was. To lose someone when you believe that nothing can go wrong; it makes it seem as though your world is crashing down around you.
As time progressed, my mom and I became even more distant, only speaking to each other when she was screaming at me; which became more and more frequent as I watched our beautiful relationship go up in smoke.
As our relationship disappeared, so did the happy, optimistic girl with high expectations of life; the girl I had once been. I was too scared to have high expectations for a while after that, and I suffered from depression and anxiety. But more recently this country artist that I loved was making his world comeback tour, and he was coming around here. It was a sold out concert, and I had tickets. I was ecstatic. I counted down the days until the concert for months.
Unfortunately, as fate would have it, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital due to my depression and anxiety mere days before the concert, and I was unable to attend the concert.
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I was so disappointed. I had been so excited for this concert, only to have it ripped from my grasp at the last possible moment.
But not everything about the hospital was terrible. For it was there that I fell in love with the guy that I believe to be the love of my life. I hoped desperately that he would like me, or at least notice me. And for once my high expectations payed off. Because before I knew it, he was kissing me and telling me he loved me. We were perfect together, and I had never been happier. We were both dismissed from the hospital around the same time, and we were thrilled to be free and to have each other.
Nothing could possibly go wrong. We were perfect together. But almost immediately after the hospital, my parents separated us, forbidding us to see one another. I was devastated.
But I told myself he’d be okay. He was strong. He would make it. I finally convinced myself, allowing myself to have high expectations that he would make it. Which only made it 100 times harder when he passed away half a year later, causing my heart to shatter into a billion pieces. I always blame myself. Maybe if I had been there for him, he wouldn’t have committed suicide. And maybe if I hadn’t had such high expectations that he would be okay, then maybe it wouldn’t have hurt quite so bad.
So maybe no one is born an optimist or a pessimist, but rather your life experiences affect your views. So maybe I’d still be that happy-go-lucky optimistic girl I was so long ago if I hadn’t suffered so much heart-break at such a young age.
And maybe having high expectations and being optimistic doesn’t make you happier. Maybe you’re just setting yourself up to get hurt. Because it’s when you have high expectations
Life really is like a roller coaster. Sometimes high expectations will help you soar to the top, while other times they will make the problems you face come as such a surprise that you will find the rug being pulled out from under you.
So maybe I was happier as the young, optimistic girl with high expectations that I once was. But now I have the bad flashbacks that haunt my memory and the scars on my thighs to remind me of all the times my high expectations stabbed me in the back.