Narrative Essay About My Story

My Story
In 1980 my mom gave a birth to a cutie whom they named Anush (means sweet) after my grandmother, the mother of my father. That was me. I was the first child of my parents. My father was the youngest of 7 children and was the first brother out of 4 to have a child. I was a gift of happiness for my parents and grandparents. My mom has told me that my father’s whole family, parents and siblings were all interested to help out my mom to raise me. But my mom did it on her own with my father. My father was very busy with his job (director of many farms), and he wasn’t able to help my mom with me as much as he would have liked to.
“You were loved by everyone” says my mom. She

My father was a perfectionist and he had big expectations from me since I was the oldest and smart. He wanted me to be the best student in the school, the best kid in the neighborhood, and the best in every good action and moral aspects. I was very strong physically, therefore I was always helping my parents in the garden and whatever they did. I was able to cook, clean, and to take care of my siblings at young age. I did all these things not because I was forced to, but because I knew my parents expected it, and I didn’t want to let them down. I don’t remember my parents playing with me, but I do remember my mom talking to me for hours, sharing her thoughts and stories of her childhood, which I enjoyed very much. I also remember my father asking me to sing (he loved my singing) and joining me sometimes. I still remember how proud his facial expression got, when I told him I wanted to become a lawyer. He believed I could, but his expectations grew bigger. My father was a strict person, and as I already mentioned a perfectionist and so it somehow stood between me and him, and I developed a closer relationship with my mom. If I ever would try to blame my parents for something that did wrong it would be 2

They always put others before them, help others first, care about others first, do their will first, then our turn would come.
2. My parents valued other people’s opinion way more than they should have.
The first one is very Christ like behavior, but I think sometimes it was more than needed and the family was sometimes negatively affected.
The second one was annoying. Especially when I became an SDA and my uncles and aunties (father’s siblings) decided they had a right to bring me back into the “right” mind. It is not easy to make me to accept what others say just because they may be more experienced or have doctorate degree, I love to think, to explore, to understand and then make a decision. Other than that, my parents were caring, loving, protecting. Their love wasn’t expressed by touching and kissing, but in other ways. For example my father would do everything to throw a nice (in his own way) birthday party for me. Or he would get me the best clothing that I liked (he had a very good taste in clothing). My mother became more openly affectionate