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Family influence on adolescent development
Essays on the topic Family influence in adolescence
Parents'influence on kids
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Independence is Indestructible I believe in independence. My journey to my current independent outlook started when I was in junior high. I was 13 years old when my sister came back home half way through her first semester of college, pregnant. I don’t think any less of my sister for getting pregnant, things happen and my niece is undeniably a blessing. However, In my opinion she handled the situation completely wrong in a way that impacted my entire family, and my outlook on life. My sister decided to move back home, bringing along her boyfriend and newborn baby. Everyday I would come home from school to a house with one family living on top of another. I would be greeted with a crying baby that my mother would be taking care of whilst my sister was busy with other things. Such as, what I call “playing house”. She decided that having a child now made her an adult. She would often reorganize the kitchen and move furniture as if she owned my parents house herself. She and her family took over everything, and my world felt as if it were turned upside down. My home was consumed, my mother was occupied, and I was alone. My days passed lonely yet frantic. Although no one had time for helping with …show more content…
It was at this time that I took my life into my own hands. I started taking care of myself. I no longer needed help with school, socialization, or even advice. I made myself a promise to never rely on my parents, or anyone for that matter. Responsibility became a priority, I began to take school much more seriously as well as showing gratitude towards my parents for the roof over my head and the food on my table. Over the years my obsession with being independent has thrived, I have a job that I earned myself, and I’ve been saving to move out after the summer. When I move out I won’t expect anything from my parents except for moral support, because a family should be there for love, not
Being the only child still at home means I am at home with only my mom and dad who drive me crazy by bombarding me with questions every thirty minutes like “hey have you started your homework, hey have you finished it yet, you need to get back on your homework”. Not only does my parents micromanage me about my homework, they want to know where I am at all times, I no longer have the freedom to come and go as I please. After living on campus for a semester and making good grades while playing baseball, I think I have proved that I am responsible and capable of managing my time. No independence is tough, but I miss being in the dorm and hanging out with my
I have sisters and brothers, but was never raised with any of them. As the only child in the home I was spoiled rotten and was not too keen on sharing much of anything. You can imagine going to kindergarten and learning I had to share. I remember this quite well because it was a traumatic experience for a five year old. The older I got, the more entitled and selfish I became. I can look back on it now as see how I acted, but during that time I actually felt that way.
The first thoughts that came across my mind when I entered my room was this is my home for the next nine months, I am going to be sharing the bathroom with my whole wing, I am independent, and I am going to not have people telling me, “You have this due when?” or “You have to go to class?” This decision is your own. Your parents are not with you. You don’t have your dad or mom looking over your shoulder.
Identity-“Ones personal qualities.”Identiy is something only he or she can fully define. My uncle says I am affectionate,cheerful, and calm. My grandmother sees me as slim, pretty and sweet. My dad described me as perky, cheerful and happy, my mom says beautiful, gentle, and self-conscious. These adjectives describe me accurately, yet they are only abstract versions of me. Adjectives cannot begin to describe me and I aknowlege these descriptions for what they are, a condensed translation from my outward self to the world. It is impossible for anyone to understand me completely because nobody has experienced the things I have. My mother has never cherished a raggedy doll named Katie and my father never spent hours upon hours making collages and scrap books for his future children. My uncle never hid in the back of a pick-up-truck and traveled four hours to New York and my grandmother has never walked hours in the rain looking for the Queen of England. My identity is something only I can define.
Ellen and I were growing up and along with getting older, came increased responsibility and a bit of independence. Now, our mother allowed us to pick up a few groceries unchaperoned, happy to do so, we carried our willow shopping basket, money in one hand and a grocery list in the other, with a note to give to the store clerk who would gather the required items for us. We felt so grown up as we moseyed to the Abtsweg together, not in a group as we did when we walked to school with friends, but just the two of us; my sister and I, wearing matching brown coats and perfectly starched bows in our hair. When we returned home and proudly handed Mom the basket filled with all the correct items, she praised us endlessly and when Ted’s parents phoned,
“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.” (C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair, 1953). Upon first reading this quote, it felt like my grieving period was validated and that I was being encouraged to find my way again through some big decisions that would need to be made.
There were people at my house going through my family’s belongings telling me what was worth keeping and what wasn’t. I felt like I couldn’t have my own opinion and if I shared my opinions, I would instantly be looked down on. I was in charge of my own things and had little to no say in anything else that happened. I wasn’t even allowed to go into my mom’s room to collect things that were special to her. I couldn’t even grab items of hers that would have comforted me while I was grieving. You could feel the tension throughout the whole house as we got closer and closer to getting everything packed up. We were all mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. Those emotions stuck around as we were welcomed into our new home. My siblings and I were introduced to new rules at our house and they were nothing like what we were used to. We had to eat as a family which was a new concept to us. We came from a divorced household where my mom was almost never home for dinner because she was working to support her kids. We were expected to get along and communicate with each other. I never felt connected to my legal guardians and that made simple tasks such as communicating, incredibly difficult. People were so happy about the situation and I didn’t understand why. I remember seeing the church bulletin announcing, “The Fruits family has grown by three! Welcome Michael, Sarah, and Rachel to the family”.
I thought I was independent my entire life. I thought that I did not need anyone in order to get things done or get by. You try to act tough and be brave in order for the people around you to give you respect. You believe that you are bigger than the world, that you are invincible. But then something happens that makes you realize that you are not as tough as you once thought. You realize that the world is full of surprises and one day the floor could just be pulled from under you.
I was once in a similar situation like yours. I was trapped and I wanted independence. You are beginning your journey of independence as a woman and this letter will offer you inspiration. However, what will help you most along this journey is searching deep inside and finding what is most important in your life. I have heard much about your story and I will give you tips to solve them. I hope you find inspiration in reading about my story.Your story involved deceit and so does mine, but I am not the cause of it. I was unaware of the conflict that was happening in Rwanda, just like your husband was unaware of the deal you made trying to save his life. My family was trying to save me, just like you were saving Torvald. This conflict caused so
In my beliefs independence can not be the definition of what your government says is independent. For if you go by what the government says is independent than why not go by Chinas definition of independence, or by the communists party’s definition of independence. If you go by any governments definition of independence than you are not truly going to be independent. For each governments definition of independence you are not truly independent. In my belief to be truly independent you must be able to do what you want when you want and have nobody to say that you cant do that. If the government is telling you that you can do this and not do that then how can you have independence. The only true way to have independence is to make decisions based on you and not based on what society thinks. How can a person be truly independent if they have to do what other people think is the right thing to do? The answer to that question is that they can not be independent for independence is the ability to do what you want even if it is not what society thinks that it is not the right thing to do. These beliefs is one of my building blocks for my definition of independence.
From a very young age, my mother taught me to do things for myself. As I got older and asked her why she encouraged that idea in me, she told me it was because she wanted to be able to know I could take care of myself when she is not here anymore. That is when I understood her reason in why she enforced my independence, instead of depending on her so much. Of course, everyone at one point in their lives was dependent when we were kids, but eventually we all become independent when we reach adulthood. However, I strongly believe in being an independent individual is important, instead of being dependent because before we start to settle down in life, we are by ourselves in search of who we want to be in life.
With the help of my friends and family, I began to heal. I believe that it was at this point that I began to truly grow up. I no longer thought of myself as a shy, dependent young girl. I was developing into an independent young adult. It was now I that was responsible for knowing when events were such as when homework was due, and as much as I wanted to give up, I knew that I had to keep trying. I reminded myself that while a tragic event did happen to me, it did not have to define me. My initial goal was just to do what would have made my mom proud. Being the second month of school, I was involved in many different programs. I was attending an eighth program at the high school for math and science in addition to my middle school courses, swimming on a competitive swim team, and adjusting to living in a new house with different
My transition from adolescence to adulthood was shaped through most of my high school years. I have two siblings a sister several years older and brother 1 ½ younger than me, he has always been my best friend. My father told my brother and I that we only have each other and to rely on each other. My ninth grade year of high school was the first time that I had to stand alone without my brother. I was nervous and excited not knowing what to expect but looking forward to such an important milestone. I was in high school looking to identify with myself as well as my peers. I struggled to make friends there were so many kids the school was so big I felt like an ant on a sidewalk with grants. I hadn’t grown into my looks yet I was skinny, wore glasses,
I could have been a super senior or a drop out altogether. I could have been a father struggling with finances. I could have been a drug addict and not be writing this three page essay that ruins weekends, and for that I am thankful that my dad didn’t let things slide that weren’t right. I am kind of happy he threatened me with military school when I was in middle school, I was a handful, I would get kicked out of class constantly but I stayed in school, years later I would be walking down my high school football stadium class of 2016 for my graduation, both my parents stressed it that it was the utmost importance to graduate, both my mother and father pushed me to get good enough grades to graduate. My dad would try to teach me math, I hated math so much it was my least favorite subject, I was more of a history type of guy. He would try his best to help me in school, but i just needed the motivation to get me started, I personally didn’t think i would graduate high school, he gave me the courage to do so, it was a requirement to him, I see some kids drop out or go to adult school to get a G.E.D but having a high school degree was better, I still got to enjoy my years as a teen, having fun with friends, hanging out, I just had to follow certain guidelines to not get me into trouble. In highschool I was never a bad kid though, it was in middle school I was a little shit who thought i runned things but no, my dad was the big boss. The most i probably got in trouble was when I came home really late around 12:00 AM with my girlfriend, but he wasn’t mad at the fact I was out with her very late, it was the fact that I didn’t let him know where I was, he started to loosen his grip about me going out slowly over my four years in highschool, I just needed to tell him I was getting home late, and there shouldn’t be a problem what so ever. Even when I go party my dad wants me to be safe, I tell him who I go with and
She wasn’t as upbeat and friendly. She was so secretive about everything we did outside of the house. Like she would tell my father she was taking us to school and we’d just go to the park and run free. Then one day we were just getting home from school. As soon as we got in the door he knocked her to the ground and from there it just got worse. Unbeknownst to my brother and I grand ma had been then glue hold this horrible charade together. This had been happening for years but I guess it was easier for him to beat on hear in front of us than it was our grandmother. It was daily thing. It was our routine; Get up go to school, come home, do homework, mom and dad fight, go to bed. Wake up and repeat. May 24, 2007 last day of school. It was a normal day for our household, Mom got us up and ready for school. Later that day after school we had dinner and went to bed as usual. I went to sleep not knowing that in less than an hour I would be running for my life.