<p>"When I grow up, I want to be just like my dad." These words have been spoken by millions of children, including myself. My image of my father was always held in the purest light. My father was a state finalist wrestler, All-State football player, and eventually the starting tailback for Boston University. He started runs his own business, an Irish Pub he dubbed The Half Point, which I visit and work at frequently. I pictured my father as a superhero, someone who could do no wrong, someone who always did the right thing and would have my back until the end. It was a picture perfect image. Unfortunately, that image was shattered during my junior year by my father's brief stint with alcoholism. I knew that alcoholism was a terrible condition that had potential to do terrible harm if not addressed, but it never seemed real until it affects you directly. At the start of my junior year, everything seemed perfectly normal, I was preparing for the upcoming football season and school year, and I could not sense anything was amiss. As the year went on, my father seemed to be coming home from work later and later. No one in my family thought anything of it. However, the late night trend continued and one night in April, I heard my parents having an argument. I could not make out exactly what they were saying and again, I thought nothing of this. The week went on and the arguments became a bit more frequent. One day in late May while driving me to school my mother turned to me and asked if I had noticed anything different about my father. I replied, "not really, why?" She claimed that she was "just wondering" but I knew something was wrong. There was a feeling of uneasiness in the house for the remainder of May and into July. In late July, I had made friends with a friend of mine to stay at his shore house for the weekend and my father had volunteered to drive me there in the morning. The plan was that my father had to make a quick run to work and then he would be back in time to depart by 10:30 AM. However, he did not return home until almost noon. Already flustered that I was going to be late, I hurriedly hopped into the car and was immediately hit by a clear odor of alcohol. We departed and the car was swerving side to side on the road. Unbelievably upset with tears in my eyes I demanded that he pull the car over and let me drive down the shore, as I had my permit at the time. He reluctantly agreed and stumbled into the passenger seat. The feeling I had on the ride down the shore is indescribable. Fighting back tears as my father rambled about something I cannot recall,I could not fathom how my father had prioritized getting intoxicated over the safety of his own son. For a brief period of time, I hated my dad, the man who was my superhero just months prior. When I returned home on Monday, my father sat me down and apologized and made a promise to me that nothing like that would ever happen again. I did not believe him. I stormed upstairs and secluded myself in my room until I had to go to football practice the next day. After a week of not speaking to my dad. After much self-deliberation, i came to the conclusion that I needed to trust my dad.This decision transitioned me from a boy to a man in two ways. First, it provided me with a wake up call that my father was not perfect, no one is. Second, it allowed me to realize the importance of forgiveness. My father has not had any sort of alcohol-related incident since.</p>
<p>This really tells me nothing about you except in the last few sentences. Your essay should be about your transition to adulthood. Right now this sounds like “Here’s a story about my dad. Oh, and by the way, I also learned this.” It really isn’t about you at all, it’s about this story. Right now it’s about 95% your dad/that story and 5% you. I’d say you should spend no more than 30% of your essay talking about your dad and explaining this incident.</p>
<p>I took your advice, what do you think of the revisions?</p>
<p>“When I grow up, I want to be just like my dad.” These words have been spoken by millions of children, including myself. My image of my father was always held in the purest light.I pictured my father as a superhero, someone who could do no wrong, someone who always did the right thing and would have my back until the end. It was a picture perfect image. Unfortunately, that image was shattered during my junior year by my father’s brief stint with alcoholism. I knew that alcoholism was a terrible condition that had potential to do terrible harm if not addressed, but it never seemed real until it affects you directly. As my junior year went on, my father seemed to be coming home from work later and later. No one in my family thought anything of it. The weeks went on and I began to hear arguments from downstairs. There was a feeling of uneasiness in the house. In late July, I had made plans with a friend of mine to stay at his shore house for the weekend and my father had volunteered to drive me there in the morning. The plan was that my father had to make a quick run to work and then he would be back in time to depart by 10:30 AM. However, he did not return home until almost noon. Already flustered that I was going to be late, I hurriedly hopped into the car and was immediately hit by a clear odor of alcohol. We departed and the car was swerving side to side on the road. Unbelievably upset with tears in my eyes I demanded that he pull the car over and let me drive down the shore, as I had my permit at the time. He reluctantly agreed and stumbled into the passenger seat. The feeling I had on the ride down the shore is indescribable. Fighting back tears as my father rambled about something I cannot recall,I could not fathom how my father had prioritized getting intoxicated over the safety of his own son. For a brief period of time, I hated my dad, the man who was my superhero just months prior. When I returned home on Monday, my father sat me down and apologized and made a promise to me that nothing like that would ever happen again. I did not believe him. I stormed upstairs and secluded myself in my room until I had to go to football practice the next day. After much self-deliberation, I came to the conclusion that I needed to trust and forgive my dad. Looking back at it now, this experience was a turning point in my life.
First, it provided me with a wake up call that my father was not perfect, no one is. I realized that I had been living in a fairy tale world for a good amount of my life. Not just in regard to my father, but my entire view of the world was blurred by a sheltered life until this experience. In addition to providing a more realistic view of the world, this experience helped me become more sympathetic towards others dealing with similar situations at home.
Second, it allowed me to realize the importance of forgiveness. I realized that my father had been going through a tough time recently, and he needed the full support of my family, especially me since we have always been close. The love my family and I share is one that cannot be broken. We accept each other for who we are and the connection we share helps us better each other each and every day. I truly believe that this experience, though catastrophic at first, was what my father needed to change the path he was heading down. My father has not had any sort of alcohol-related incident since.</p>