Personal Narrative: My Emotional Empathy

A teacher once told me to write about my moral compass as in absent assignment. I sat their baffled and suddenly realized that I truly do need to do some soul searching to find out why I do have hard time expressing my emotional empathy. Throughout my childhood and to this day I have always had hard time reflecting on my emotions. It is a difficult endeavor for me to fathom writing about the significant events, transitions, and turning points that have molded me into the human I am. As it is for many, I believe I do not warrant being talked about in such a large literature context. At the age of 26, I still feel I have a lot of learning to do and life experiences to gain. I will construct 6 pillars of significant events that have helped to

I would constantly get bullied throughout my years attending school there because I was simply the white kid that kept to himself and idea of keeping myself busy during classes after completing my assigned work was by reading comic books about marvel heroes like Spiderman who always seemed to rescue the damsel in distress and save the day from the evil villain’s that lurked the city. Maybe indirectly, I was reading about these heroes in caps because I wanted to be more like them saving lives, being courageous standing up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. That was me in elementary the opposite of a hero, the anti-hero letting kids bully me and push me around. One critical event I distinctly remember was being in class minding my own business when three kids from the back row of the class kept hitting me with straw balls (wet paper balls). We had a substitute that did not seem to care practically sleeping. She suddenly left the room to use the restroom. One of the kids got out of his seat proceeded to come right in my face and decide to spit one last heavy straw ball right in my eye. I could not take it anymore and yelled aggressively for him to stop. A fight then proceeded after. The substitute comes back to stop the struggle between us. She then tells us both to step outside while she finishes class while a security officer watches

It was not the fact that I threw everything away for a girl who I thought I loved, it was the people who I let down by leaving. Although, I let down many. The one person who I was most discouraged about letting down was my mother. The one person that practically raised me by herself due to the lack of a father figure, who spent most of his time on drinking binges with his friends. One specific event I can recall was back in 2011, it was winter break at the College I was attending. At that moment, I was going through a hard time not making friends with other fellow students. I was convinced whole heartily it was not me that was unfriendly it was their backwoods country mentality that caused the friction, which couldn’t be anymore untrue. Not to mention, I was not as successful as I thought I would be at football believing that the coaches played favorites not giving me the opportunity to start. Basically my mother along with the girl I was seeing flew to come see me at Dordt, I was excited with glee when they arrived but not for the fact that my mother was there, it was that the girl I loved had arrived. During their visit I was fixated on this girl, ignoring my mother while she was there the whole time. Then the moment came that cut my heart into pieces, my mother told me to step in her rented van and told me to step into the passenger seat. I told