<p>I posted this under the College Admission forum and have gotten some wonderful advices. But replies were scarce and I thought more opinions would be safer. It is almost 800 words and I think it's still under the limit. The topic, I fear, is a bit clinche, but I think I pulled it off alright. Any input would be greatly appreciated, and thank you all in advance! </p>
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<p>Night, I lay on my bed, wide awake. Slowly I smoothed the sheets I had been twisting in my hands and left for my mothers room for I knew she would be awake, too. She was. We faced each other across the room as our gazes held; her eyes filled with understanding. I was to choose, and I had made my decision.
It all began with a simple phone call from my father, my father who left me when I was a little over two. It was a gently expressed invitation: that I should go live with him; yet it stirred up a storm so violent within me that it threatened to tear me in two. I was to choose between my mother who looked over me all these years and made me who I was and my father who was little more than some fragmented memories and promised me of who I could become. I had often imagined myself to be a heroine like the ones Id read about, the ones who bravely choose the right course after much internal debate, but I had never imaged this. At first, it seemed there could be no wrong answer, for how could a fourteen-year-olds wish to stay under her mothers protective wings be wrong? And how could a daughters desire to get to know her father and widen her horizons be wrong? At the same time, however, there could be no right answer: would my decision to leave be a kind of betrayal to my mother? Or would my choice to stay qualify as cowardice? Moving to the U.S., to my father, was both a challenge and an opportunity. My curiosity for the unknown battled my fear while my attachment to my mother fought with my longing for my father.
In the end, I made the bolder decision to leave behind everything that I had ever known to come to the United States. It was not easy; I could even argue it was the harder way. On one hand, I was almost overwhelmed by such a new society. I struggled to adjust while feeling mute, blind, and deaf all at the same time because of my language problem. My father did his best to help, but in the beginning even things between us werent going well. After all, each of us knew little of the person who had grown so different from the person in our memories. We were also still new to the roles of father and daughter. On the other hand, I desperately missed my mother. I knew she missed me, too; but my understanding of her pain only added to my own growing guilt. I asked myself again and again if my leaving her was an abandonment even though I knew she would only want the best for me. I was drowning, and at times there seemed to be no escape. I feared that the challenge would overwhelm me. Amidst all these, I naturally started doubting my decision, but I knew there was no going back. I had promised myself long ago that I would stick to every choice I made and face the challenges head-on. Thus I struggled to control my temper and see things from my fathers perspective. I devoured one grammar book after another and forced myself to read the tedious dictionaries. I called my mother weekly and learned to express what I felt at heart.
I stayed, survived, and gained so much more. The experience changed me forever. Through my lowest points, I came to appreciate the love of those who cared for me. Despite our share of problems, both my parents were the source of power that helped me through the most difficult period. I came to know my father as he started to understand me better even though there was friction. I also reached a deeper understanding of the bond between my mother and me as it withstood the hardest test it had ever faced. Furthermore, I met with people from all over the world while I stayed in the ESOL program, and it broadened my way of thinking and opened my mind up to many different cultures. As my English progressed and I joined regular students in class, I was lucky enough to be introduced to the lovely U.S. culture in depth. I compared it with my old one and in term gained a better understanding of each. In short, this challenge changed my view on my family and the world. It was indeed the mark of my transition from a confused girl to a confident young woman. I hold no regrets.</p>