From a very young age, I knew I was strange. I didn’t enjoy playing or being around kids my age, I would read constantly and do my homework as soon as I got home, and I was extremely intuitive. This made growing up in a home with an older brother and three, sometimes four, day care kids an unpleasant chore. I always had to share my toys or tend to other children’s needs. However, when I did get free-time, I would create anything and everything I could imagine. My mom likes to think she taught me everything I know about arts and crafts, but that is far from the truth. I remember one year on Independence Day, I got burned by a firework and nobody cared to do anything about it, so I wrapped up my arm, walked straight to my room, and drew a huge mural on the wipe-board on my wall. It took me hours to finish but when I did, I felt accomplished and I didn’t need anyone else’s approval to know I was skilled. My love for art continued throughout my life, but my security did not. My parents divorced when I was seven; my brother moved to California, and my half-sisters stopped visiting me. I moved to Clearfield with my dad when I was maybe eight or nine years old and had to start over. We were living with my grandma in her basement and I always felt …show more content…
I continued to express myself through art and even joined National Honors League (NAL) hoping I would make friends there. Turns out, I was the only girl on the club and I made it my goal to change that. By the end of the first semester, I recruited four girls to NAL. We had more girls than any other team at the time. Despite my accomplishment, things didn’t get better at home and that started to affect my school life. I turned back to my bookworm ways and read and doodled each of my lunches away. I’ve done this every day before school, during lunch, and after school since that year. I already know I don’t fit in with the other kids, but it doesn’t bother me when I know I can turn to my sketch pad for