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This is part of my college application essay for UTD. This is ME.

Supposedly, Thanksgiving is the holiday when families come together and share a meal or two. I have the pleasure of having three in one day. First, I go with my mother to visit my grandfather and have lunch at the mess hall on the Joint Reserves Base in Fort Worth. After a couple of hours, my mother and I book it to my paternal grandfather’s house and share the remainder of his Thanksgiving lunch with most of his and his wife’s family. Finally, my dad’s mother provides Thanksgiving dinner, and all her relatives attend. This is the tradition of my disjointed family.

It all began when I was fairly new to the world. I knew I had a mother, a very active godfather, and maybe some friends, but everything else was beyond me. I thought, for a while, that I had a nonexistent father. I knew his family, but they never spoke of him while I was present. I was pretty much oblivious to the relation. I only understood they were my aunt, uncles, and grandparents. I would go around wherever my mother took me and tell anyone who was willing to listen that I had no father. That was embarrassing, or so I’ve heard from my mother.

One day, I got a letter in the mail. It was from my father! My real, biological father! Though, at the time, I had no idea what “biological” meant. We began by just passing letters back and forth. It was fun, but I knew the jig was up when my mother asked how I would feel if my father had another child with a different woman. My first thought was outrage. How could anyone not want another child with my amazing mom? Why would he want to do that to her? Would I even be related to this other baby? So, I told her I wouldn’t like it and thus ended the subject. My grandmother, though, wasn’t one for keeping secrets. One day, she informed me that I had a baby sister. I thought that meant that there was just another extension to my growing family and didn’t think much of it. Of course, I humored her by saying I thought it was neat.

The day came when I was to finally meet my father. I thought the only reason was because our washing machine was broken and he had the “thing” to fix it. Then, he took me out to dinner, we talked, and I learned, for what I thought was the first time, that I had a sister and I was going to meet her at his house after dinner. I met her and my stepmother, who only wanted to be my “friend” and not my mother, without conflict. I immediately began to love my sister. Loving my dad was a different story. It was a little hard because he didn’t have that cute, cuddly quality my sister had and I didn’t know him that well.

The relationships I formed with my family grew stronger over time as I began to make certain connections in my head. I found out that my Grandmother and Papa were once married. It also became apparent to me that my Granddad had no relation to me, especially when Grandmother divorced him for the second time. Grandma and Grandpa were also unhappily divorced, but he claimed he still wanted her back even though he had his girlfriend (Lori, or “Precious” as my mother would call her facetiously). The reason Richard, my step-grandfather at the time, left was because I had not given Grandma that punching pillow I thought she needed for whenever she got mad at him. All these people were not taking their relationships with each other seriously. I could not understand that. I thought all people had the unbreakable bond I had with my mother. That is why, in the end, I take all my relationships with people very seriously. I do not want others to experience the separation my entire family has been through.

Some might say my family is a bit unorthodox. Well, of course it is! They may not all enjoy each other’s company, but I still love them. I was born into a two-person family that grew bigger as I began to understand my role in life. I was the only daughter of my mother and the first daughter of my father. All of my grandparents, I soon found out, were divorced and only one remarried successfully. That makes one family to live with, another to visit, four sets of grandparents (figuratively), three uncles, and an aunt. That’s a big family; and I’m not even counting all the cousins or great uncles and aunts I may not be aware that I have. All relationships are very important to me and I wish that will be the same for my children. I only hope that their immediate family will be a little less complicated.

Soooooooo, that's pretty much who I am. This should give insight to why I am what I am.

-(I would sign here, except this isn't a letter) *doesn't sign*-


Okay, so that's the old one. Here's the revamped one that I actually sent to UTD. So, I deleted the second to last paragraph, moved the last one up and added one. See what you think. Which one's better?



Supposedly, Thanksgiving is the holiday when families come together and share a meal or two. I have the pleasure of having three in one day. First, I go with my mother to visit my grandfather and have lunch at the mess hall on the Joint Reserves Base in Fort Worth. After a couple of hours, my mother and I book it to my paternal grandfather’s house and share the remainder of his Thanksgiving lunch with most of his and his wife’s family. Finally, my dad’s mother provides Thanksgiving dinner, and all her relatives attend. This is the tradition of my disjointed family.

It all began when I was fairly new to the world. I knew I had a mother, a very active godfather, and maybe some friends, but everything else was beyond me. I thought, for a while, that I had a nonexistent father. I knew his family, but they never spoke of him while I was present. I was pretty much oblivious to the relation. I only understood they were my aunt, uncles, and grandparents. I would go around wherever my mother took me and tell anyone who was willing to listen that I had no father. That was embarrassing, or so I’ve heard from my mother.

One day, I got a letter in the mail. It was from my father! My real, biological father! Though, at the time, I had no idea what “biological” meant. We began by just passing letters back and forth. It was fun, but I knew the jig was up when my mother asked how I would feel if my father had another child with a different woman. My first thought was outrage. How could anyone not want another child with my amazing mom? Why would he want to do that to her? Would I even be related to this other baby? So, I told her I wouldn’t like it and thus ended the subject. My grandmother, though, wasn’t one for keeping secrets. One day, she informed me that I had a baby sister. I thought that meant that there was just another extension to my growing family and didn’t think much of it. Of course, I humored her by saying I thought it was neat.

The day came when I was to finally meet my father. I thought the only reason was because our washing machine was broken and he had the “thing” to fix it. Then, he took me out to dinner, we talked, and I learned, for what I thought was the first time, that I had a sister and I was going to meet her at his house after dinner. I met her and my stepmother, who only wanted to be my “friend” and not my mother, without conflict. I immediately began to love my sister. Loving my dad was a different story. It was a little hard because he didn’t have that cute, cuddly quality my sister had and I didn’t know him that well.

Some might say my family is a bit unorthodox. Well, of course it is! They may not all enjoy each other’s company, but I still love them. I was born into a two-person family that grew bigger as I began to understand the complexities of my extended family. I was the only daughter of my mother and the first daughter of my father. All of my grandparents, I soon found out, were divorced and only one remarried successfully. That makes one family to live with, another to visit, four sets of grandparents (figuratively), three uncles, and an aunt. That’s a big family; and I’m not even counting all the cousins or great uncles and aunts I may or may not be aware that I have.

All the members of my family have shaped my personality in different ways, but their disconnectedness has made me understand the importance of solid relationships. All these people who had relationships with me were not taking their relationships with each other seriously. I could not understand that. I thought all people had the unbreakable bond I had with my mother. That is why I value any and every relationship I form; past, present, and future. I plan to choose my relationships carefully so that they will last. I hope that my children will cherish their own relationships as well and that their family will be a little less complicated.