<p>So I know that the Stanford application deadline is long gone (I applied mid December), but I was wondering if you guys could give me advice on my essay that I wrote.</p>
<p>The essay was in response to the question: Indicate a person who has had significant influence on you, and describe that influence.</p>
<p>So here's the essay:
Wisdom From A Mother’s Apathy</p>
<p>My mother, well, doesn’t entirely fit the typical stereotype of a loving mother that overprotects and embarrasses the heck out her child. In fact, one might even chuckle if they heard my mother classified as such. She constantly degraded me, leaving me hurt and alone, yet through her actions, I began to discover myself: what I hated, what I loved, and what I wanted in life.</p>
<p>When I was a child of five, my mother and dad fought constantly, disrupting mypleasantly innocent dreams as I slept in my black metal bunk bed. Often times, I would find myself late to school due to their shouting, trumping into class as my classmates followed me with their eyes all the way to my seat. I hated being late.</p>
<p>A few years later, my parents finally divorced. I knew this to be a godsend. With my parents separated, I could focus on one parent specifically at a time when I was at his or her house. And here the problems arose. I realized quickly two facts that have stayed with me my entire life: I loved my dad more than anyone in the world; and my mother did not love me. </p>
<p>My first indication of my mother’s indifference occurred in the 4th grade. I sat quietly gluing some papers for an elementary research project when I got up the nerve to ask my mother if I could live with my dad. As I shifted uncomfortably from a long pause, she finally said, “Don’t call me Mom. Call me Denise.”</p>
<p>While that instance could have broken the heart of any normal child, I determined I would get out of her house at all costs. I knew my terrible habits I developed at her house would impair my well-being. I rarely got enough sleep, I constantly played computer games, I ate food that would make a health-freak faint, and I always fought with my mother. Worst of all, I never did my homework (something that translated into my grades freshman year of high school) and I developed the habit of indifference to school. I saw all of this in myself, and while my conscience screamed at me to change, I could not figure out how.</p>
<p>Then something strange happened. In eighth grade, I sat watching TV with my sister and my mother was talking on the phone. My sister (for reasons still unclear) decided to pluck a hair off my chin. I cussed. My mother, acting out of her anger, picked up the nearest item to her – a plate – and chucked it at me. It shattered on my knee and I looked down to see a gaping hole. I was shocked, but it did not hurt. Only after my sister (who had helped stop the bleeding with a towel) told me that I needed stitches did I cry. I hated needles. Part of me knew it was my mother’s fault and I would ensure she would have no more to do with my life.</p>
<p>My step mom -- whom I love as the mother I wish I had had -- and my dad fought for custody of my sister and me. After a year of vicious and, at times, exhausting court battles with my mother, we achieved freedom from my mother one day. My whole life changed for the better that day. A new life, one might say, had begun. I progressively got better grades starting freshman year with a 3.64 GPA, a GPA of 4.0 my sophomore year, and finally a 4.67 GPA last year as a junior. I began to let go of the constant anger I felt when around my mother. And first and foremost, I was happy. Not the happiness that one feels when winning a game, but the kind of happy when one realizes that the future looks brighter or finds hope in life.</p>
<p>And I could share this success and happiness with my new mother, whom I call Missy. All the pent up frustration I felt from lacking a mother for all my life was instantly relieved by the sudden and fateful arrival of Missy. I have loved no one, save my dad, as much I have her.</p>
<p>I learned a few truths through my experiences with my mom. A mother’s bond with her child need not be biological to be strong, as was the case with Missy. Hard work in both school and athletics – which my mother never encouraged – leads to success in life. The power to change is in everyone, yet it is impossible to succeed without help (in my case, my dad and step mom). The second truth still holds with me now. I have worked harder and with increasing efficiency the past few years; I no longer rely solely on my talent. The last truth was difficult to accept. With my mother, I felt like the battle was my own, something I should handle without the aid of others. After all, it was only myself I was trying to change. While I have accepted the last truth, I still find it challenging to implement. Nevertheless, the fight my dad and step mom put up was much stronger than anything I could have done alone. My mother, in all her deficiencies, inadvertently gave me wisdom, wisdom to realize her mistakes and learn from them to determine how I wanted to live my life.</p>
I am glad you have Missy in your life!</p>