Aaron MacKinnon English 1102-025 Ms. Ingram September 5, 2012 Me?

What its like to be me is something I never quite thought about. Although I have never gave it much thought I know that others took it into consideration. Some would say to be me is to be the spawn of the devil, a pit of hate whose only ability is to reflect that feeling upon others. To others I am a ball of joy and craziness with the flaw of never being serious enough. A closing opinion of what it is like to be from some of my family is that I am a girl lost in Neverland, who enjoys her childlike fun but has an urge to leave and finally grow up. However, with all these opinions of what its like to be me and who I am I have come to my own conclusion. Apart of me somewhere is a piece of what others believe I am. It may not be to the extent of the spawn of the devil; but that doesnt mean I dont understand where they may get that thought. They are only seeing me from their point of view in that moment and not giving their judgments a second thought. So I am going to explain what its like to be from my perspective because honestly no one knows what its like to be me but me. Personality. A key to understanding what it is like to be me comes from the attitude I show to the world. I could sit here and write that I am the happiest, sunflower and daffodil girl you have ever met; but that would be a lie. Yes, I find myself to be a mostly happy and carefree person; however, like everyone else, I have my days of anger and sadness. I am someone whose feelings can be affected strongly by the people around her. If I am surrounded by sadness anger or hate long enough it can feel like it is slowly being transferred to me. However, vice versa, if I am surrounded by positivity I can feel it

flow through me and that makes me a brighter and happier person. That little piece of information is how I chose my friends. Then and now. I have been a surprise all my life and before-hand. When my mother was pregnant with me she had no idea. She found out about me due to a serious car accident she was in, in which she was thrown out the front window. As the doctor examined her she eventually found out she was pregnant. When she could first find out of the sex of her baby, she went, and found out that she was to be the mother of a baby boy. Since this was so she decided to name me after her late father, Gordon Aaron MacKinnon. I would be the first boy in a line of all girls. Soon thereafter the doctors gave her another surprise; I was to be twin boys. One surprise after another I was, two baby boys after a line of none. Finally, when I was born the doctor came out and told my family that there was good news and bad news. My grandmother trembled at the word bad. They said that the good news was that my mother had given birth to a healthy baby and then the doctor said that the bad news was that I was a baby girl. It turned out that since I was turned around through the whole pregnancy they just took a guess in the dark by my size which gender I was. They took a sigh of relief and just wanted to see me. I was almost the biggest baby born in that hospital that day till at the final minute a twelve pound baby was born. Although my biological father wasnt around my uncle raised me like I was his own. I grew up playing football, watching wrestling, wrestling, and playing Ms. Fix-it. I was the girl who fought boys to prove her strength and played all sports without the worry of getting dirt under my nails. I was daddys little girl but still with great love and attachment to my mother. During Elementary school I was an honor-roll student. Even though my grades were good I still got in trouble for running my mouth; however, most of my teachers still loved me as their student. I continued that good grade attitude into middle school after coming to terms with the fact that I would be stuck in a private school away from all of my friends. I strived academically and socially once I got the

swing of the new structure of a small private school. I played on the varsity basketball team as a defensive player for three years and played on the varsity volleyball team for two years. I became a strong and productive leader in my school, to the point where I was elected to be the schools ambassador. While ending my middle school journey I began a new one, which was supposed to last me four years. May of 2008 I traveled to Paris, France. I didnt want to but my family had I want your childhood to be better than mine, and Its a once in a life time opportunity running through their minds. When I got over there it was nothing like I expected it to be. I thought it would be magical and full of romance and life, but it wasnt. It was full of smells unpleasant to the nose, people with disapproving and judgmental stares, and it wasnt one of the cleanliest environments. School doesnt start until a month or two after the schools in the United States so it was nothing to do but site seeing and tons of walking. The best thing that I found about my Paris experience was my home-made pancakes and Pariss bakery fresh, daily made croissants. The croissants were so mouth-wateringly good that I would walk from my apartment daily to get them hot and fresh out of the oven. So by the time I got booted from the apartment (due to me being a stressor and complication to my aunts life) and thrown on a plane home in September my best memories were of the oven fresh croissants, and Ill give it to Paris that Pillsbury dough boy has nothing on their baking skills. After I left there my new journey of high school was to begin. In High School my 9th and 10th grade years were the furthest thing from perfect. I choose my companions based on my mind set at the time, which was anger. Even though I didnt want to be in Paris in the first place getting kicked out really pissed me off. I was filled with rage and therefore I swung toward the more aggressive crowd. They saw my pain and instead of trying to calm my rage they tried to continuously fuel it. I admit that we laughed and had our fun but most of it wasnt positive or

constructive. My happiness was completely twisted with anger. After two years of Cs, Ds, and a F it was time to transfer to a different environment. An environment that wasnt afraid of me due to family ties or who had preexisting notations based on my companies reputation, because no matter how much I wanted to shine through others just werent having it. I transferred school in the hope of starting a better and brighter life for me. I finally was able to go to high school and be judged based on my actions and not by the actions of past family who are now alumni, family who were current students, and my friends misbehaviors. Within one year all my negative grades turned from horrible to As and Bs. Along with my grades my personality began to sparkle through as well. Although my happiness was coming from a more positive place there were still those who tried to take it away from me. At every turn there were those who wanted to take away my smile with unnecessary comments and rude-mindless behavior. Even though I slipped sometimes with my temper and silver-tongue overall I was entering into a more positive way of existence. I left my new start with nothing but As and Bs ; which gave me the grades I needed to continue on to college. Allergies. In 10th grade I was officially diagnosed with servere allergies of tree-nuts, wheat/gluten, and about every tree, plant and weed in North Carolina. In 11th grade I was diagnosed with an allergy to Canola oil and just a month ago I was diagnosed with an allergy to pork. This was all do to an allergy test done April of 2008 in which they injected me with the essence of multiple things. Due to one test all my apparently dormant allergies were awaken. I thought they were crazy; all my favorite food items contained wheat and/or tree-nuts and there was no way I was about to give that up. Therefore, I continued to eat bread and tree-nuts. Slowly I began to develop symptoms; from itching to irritation to rashes, to hives/welts, then finally onto swelling and irritation of the mouth and throat. I had to go the emergency room a few times before I finally went to see my doctor. She told me that my allergies were progressive and if I continued to eat what I was allergic to my symptoms could become

fatal. I could not believe I really had to give up my favorite foods; peanut butter cookies, peanut butter cup ice-cream, white cake, biscuits, croissants, toast, double cheese burgers, spaghetti, sandwiches and much more. I could go on but it just causes an un-fillable craving. However, with the absence of all that yummy food I have learned to adapt. I hated it at first and tried to push the boundaries but with the risk getting higher I had to let that dream go. For the most part I have no desire for foods Im allergic to because what they actually taste like and why I loved them so much is slowly fading from my mind. In closing the discussion of my allergies I am just going to say dont feel sorry for me because I dont feel sorry for myself; I am well fed and happy, what could be better. Conclusion. To be me is to be someone that no one else could be. I have a life story all of my own. Although I didnt mention it I have had tragedy and pain, and with that I have worked through it and became stronger. I am wild and free at heart but I know when to find my way down to the ground. I have medical issues that make my life more constricted but not any less of a life. I had a childhood full of fun and laughs and teenage years with many complications. However, I wouldnt change my life story a bit because this is how it was meant to be and it is what makes me one-hundred percent me. To be me is a task that cant be duplicated or completely understood; but I hope a glimpse of me through my eyes will clear the view of me through yours. Because to truly understand what its like to be me, even a little, you have to walk the world in my shoes. Once while seating on a window seal I peered into the sky & while in my gaze I happened to see a beautiful butterfly/ it fluttered so calmly stopping to just glide upon the peaceful breeze/ As I saw it wondering so carelessly I couldnt help but to wonder what if that little butterfly was me. /To dance upon the clouds & wind could feel nothing but heavenly/ So I stand up jump & away I float/finally Im free. Gracefully I move as if I was never truly me/ But always a butterfly dancing amongst the flowers & with

the bee/but then a strong wind blows & Im back to reality./Once while seating on a window seal I said I wonder if the butterfly can dream as beautifully as me. -Aaron MacKinnon