Argumentative Essay On Healing The Broken

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SCARS: Healing the Broken What if I told you that you couldn’t live your life the way that you want to? --- If I told you that from the second you were created and begat that you were hated. eared. The color of your skin had a bit too much melanin in it. You couldn’t truly love anyone because who you are sexually is a bit too abrasive for our society’s liking. You couldn’t see the world the way society wanted you to. You can never be your true self because you do not fit in with our norms and as such you now must live your life through embellishments, through false hopes, bad faith, and the worst of all lies. Lies that will impact you and the people around you, your family, your friends, even strangers in the mist. It was all lies. It was …show more content…

What if I told you that you spent your entire life doing this? In a life before the existence of social media where you picked and edited the moments of your life to share with the public. Reality is too harsh and rather the true image of wishing that you had killed yourself when you had the chance years ago, wishing you had just taken one more pill or asphyxiated yourself for just one second more. Take in all of that and just edit it. Replace it with an image that had been picked, plucked, and groomed for …show more content…

I do not know what I stand for. How would I know who I am if I was raised to be worthless? I was raised… to be worthless. I was raised to believe that I couldn’t dream like the other kids. They had wanted to be astronauts, or dancers, or athletes. I couldn’t do that. I had to be reminded of what I can do. I remember my second-grade teacher telling me that I would make a great custodian. I remember my father telling a younger me how my sister was going to end up as a pediatrician when she grows up while I would end up working for McDonald’s “flipping burgers” he said. “You’ll be flipping burgers for the rest of your life” he said. This was my job outlook. This was my life. As a special education student I was bred this reality at a young age. My family was very poor. I came from a family of immigrants who did not have a cent to their names. They had believed in the “American Dream” where my parents believed that they could easily get rich quick in America and live the lives that they could not in Jamaica. Both my parents were poor throughout their lives and they had wanted to give their children better lives than the ones that they had when they were growing up. If you fast forward a bit, you now are in the year two thousand and two. My parents had to file for bankruptcy shortly after my mother had graduated from nursing school. Three years before my mother had tried to leave my abusive alcoholic father and four

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