Friday, January 7, 2011

I live in a

house where the paint is faded, the walls are broken, and the rooms are crowded. It's a house where the bugs crawl in, the warm air seeps out, dishes have to be washed by our own hands and the air conditioner is faulty, at best. My house isn't filled with pretty things and luxury is unfamiliar. I live in a house that is not filled with what we want, but what we need. I live in a world of sacrifice, and those sacrifices are made for me.
I've been a competitive gymnast for 15 years. That's basically saying my parents have given me happiness for 15 years. But this happiness doesn't come without a price. Because this sport is so expensive, we have had to do without many of the things other people take for granted. My parents choose to spend ridiculous amounts of money for gas, hotels, and restaurants to travel to meets rather than for nice vacations, new cars, or upgraded appliances. They'd rather live with stained and duct taped carpets, lights that don't always turn on, and showers that aren't always hot than to deny me my passion.
Every time I walk through the door, this house teaches me something. It teaches me to be thankful for what I have, but also for what I don't have. I'm thankful for what I don't have because if I had those other, nicer things, I wouldn't have gymnastics. I've learned that love can be stronger than greed, and that love can make almost everything alright. My home has taught me to be flexible, to be accepting, and to live simply.
Others look at this house and they may pity me; I look at my little house and see much sweeter things. I look at the faded paint, the broken walls, and the crowded rooms. I know that bugs get in and warmth gets out. I try not to complain about washing dishes and hot summers without air conditioning. I see all of these things and I see them as a blessing. All of the imperfections equal love and sacrifice. My house is a reflection of who I am. It has made me loving, slow to judge, and is the place I run to with my sorrows, my successes, and my dreams. My parents have built this house with love for me, and their willingness to make me happy. I may not have pretty things or a beautiful home, but I do have love, happiness, and knowledge of what is important in life. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh hey personal essay. Thanks for helping me get into college.