COLLEGE

Hello, nice to “meet” you, I’m sydney—like the opera house or Australia—lower-case “s” intentional. My life’s been chaotic (not in a good way). My parents aren’t together—haven’t been as long as I can remember. I have a step-mother—not evil—and two half-sisters—not wicked—Hannah and Emily.

I transferred schools for year four and acquired a very small group of friends. I’ve always been the youngest in my grade. Now, you probably wouldn’t think of this as worth mentioning, but, as not only the “new girl”, but the youngest, it’s tougher than you might think. Now I don’t care about being the youngest but then, I felt vulnerable and exposed being small, odd, introverted, and wildly uncomfortable.

I kept to myself and kept honor-roll-grades until about mid-seventh-grade when my father took me for a drive that forced me to grow up faster than I should’ve had to. The next summer, before I headed into summer-camp (where I was working as a volunteer counselor), my sisters and I said goodbye to him.

I know what you’re probably thinking right now. He didn’t die—wasn’t sent overseas or anything so courageous. He was sent to a “penitentiary”. Classy way to put it, yeah? We had to drive 3-plus-hours nearly every weekend to visit him. Now, I may not say it often—that I love my dad, but it was exhausting. My grades dropped and I began therapy. In my solo sessions with Nancy, I was honest and vented about my deepest secrets that not even my parents knew and she’d respond with a chuckle, dismissive wave of her hand, and a scribble in her notes.

I wasn’t upset when she announced that she would be leaving that practice.

When 9th grade began, there was no doubt that I was truly struggling to stay afloat. Even just in the summer before, I struggled with things larger than my family situation that I’ve harbored inside myself for too long, however, this was also the year I discovered writing and art, two of my passions. Unfortunately, despite my efforts to do my school-work and improve my grades, I was unable to prove it.

By this time, it’s safe to say that I had depression and horrible, paralyzing anxiety and rumors spread about me didn’t help. There was no desire to wear a faux-smile and pretend that everything was okay. But I did what everyone wanted.

Outside school essays, I began to write my own stories while, in school, I wrote about the things that I believe in, changes I want to make and be made and excelled in my art courses in the hopes of taking the A.P. art course offered. Last year, I participated in my first school play and discovered my newest passion on the stage and in the upcoming fall play, I’ve been cast as Georgiana in Pride and Prejudice. I have also finally overcome my fears and self-consciousness and have begun to [anonymously] publish chapters of my newest writing endeavor—a step I never thought I’d take.

I have amazing friends who’ve helped me to become the person I am today; friendly, outgoing, happy…a me that I’m proud to be. I’m independent, extremely hard-working, a leader and innovator. (Very book-smart.)

Of course, I need help sometimes (who doesn’t?). But I’m strong and wonderful. Now, I know I’m not likely any colleges first choice, but I deserve a chance. Not out of pity, but because I’ve worked unbelievably hard to make it where I am today. I have every quality that an employer would want in their employee, a teacher in their student, parent-in-child. I’m not afraid to stand up for my beliefs and I’m a natural-born negotiator and love getting my point across. So, that said, I deserve the same chance that you would give to any of your applicants and, hopefully, a place in your school.