I saw this question, and thought of a recent essay I wrote. The fiercest storm I have weathered as been one that has lasted several years. There is more detail to it than the brief essay, but I think it is succint enough to explain everything.

When I was a child, my goal was to become a princess in an exotic country, ruling over all my subjects with grace.  As I began to mature so did my dreams. Instead of a benevolent ruler, I made a more practical decision to influence the world around me.  I wanted to become a teacher to help shape future generations. I knew that my decision would take time and effort, but I had not imagined all the obstacles that would I would face on my quest for a higher education. 

When I was in middle school, I spent my summer vacation with my maternal grandma. She was a third grade teacher at Monte Vista Elementary School, and during the summer months she taught intersession. Attending intersession with my grandma, I saw how the students admired her, and how she helped shape their life for the better. I wanted to have the same in life, so together her and I began to make an educational plan to reach my goal.  My grandmother supported my goal in any way possible.  She would take me with her to class, show me how to grade papers, make lesson plans.  Not only did she support me with the thought of becoming a teacher, but also an educated person. Our plan was for me to attend the University of Berkley and become a teacher.

However, life never happens the way you want it to.  When I began my freshman year of high school, my whole world was turned upside down.  Before high school, I was the shy girl with her face in a book, I never made any waves.  High school offered many choices; from different courses to the friends I could choose.  My mother and I never saw eye to eye on anything, and we began to fight, and slowly our relationship began to dissolve.  It did not help matters that just been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, and was constantly depressed and in pain.  The fighting with my mother, and the poor choices I began to make in school, started to eat away at me.  Soon, I feel into a severe depression, in which I could see no way out.

After I was diagnosed with depression, I asked to live with my paternal grandparents.  I felt as if I couldn’t breathe with my mom around, and my depression was only getting worse, even with a therapist’s help.  As any mother would, my mother did not want to lose me, she refused to let me go. I was so desperate to escape the constant fighting that I attempted suicide.  I saw no way out. I was failing most of my classes, and I was so sad most of the time, no one wanted to be my friend. Finally, my mother relented. In moving into my paternal grandparents’ house, I estranged everyone on my mother’s side, including the grandmother that had encouraged me to become a teacher.  I was sad at losing part of my family, but was determined to try my hardest to reach my goals.

I started with trying to raise my failing grades. I stayed after school for tutoring, worked late into the night on assignments and studied for hours a day.  One teacher especially, Ms. Courey, worked with me to help me achieve my goal of higher education.  She offered to tutor me in any subject, and gave me the opportunity to be involved in school activities. She asked me to enroll in the peer counseling program to help others in hard situations.  Through the peer counseling program, I began to not only learn how to help others, but how to help myself. I learned ways to manage stress, effective communication, and was surrounded by warm hearted people. Slowly I learned how to manage the depression that had previously consumed my life.

Overcoming my depression was the first obstacle in the way of my goal. Every day is still an uphill struggle against my depression, but no longer does it control my every action. Now, my dream is firmly in my hands, and to reach it, I only need to take the time and effort to achieve it. I am enrolled in college and am one step closer to becoming the person I have always wanted to be, one that has the opportunity to make a difference in the world.

Good news! My boyfriend proposed to me the other day, and I accepted. Nicholas is my other half, if a person could have more than two halves. He compliments me, where I am weak, he is strong. Where he is lacking, I have abundance. We don't make up for one others weaknesses, but rather we give one another the strength and courage to make ourself better. I always want to grow and learn and smile, and having his heart close to mine gives me that spark to go the extra mile. I once read:
The moment I read this quote, I took it to heart. This is what I aspired to have in love, two complete selves together, hand in hand, and I feel like this is what Nick and I have. We're young, and many people will discourage us, but we've been together four years, known one another for six. Some older couples have less experience than us. I feel it isn't about our age, but our hearts and willingness to commit to love and hard work.

Another poem for love;

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

i feel as if I have been missing myself. My true self, the one who is dedicated to the moon, trees, dreams and passion. As I've matured, I haven't had time to sit in the light of the moon, meditating, or taken the time to listen ot the trees. This is who I am, what has made my life worth living. I have gotten caught up in the hum drum of day to day activitieso

My mom. I haven't talked to her since 2003. I miss her most days, but no one knows that. I carry on with my life pretending as if everything is fine, but a part of me is missing. I am my mother's daughter, and every time I look in the mirror, I see her next to me. She is my blood. But fear keeps me from reaching out. I'm afraid of rejection, afraid she will bring pain into my life, but mostly I'm afraid I'm not good enough for her.

I want my mom to smile at me, proud of all my accomplishments, to prove her wrong about all the things she thought I was.

I have this habit of jumping into something with all of my heart, and trying really hard. The only problem with diving right in is sometimes I forgot the details. I wrote the scholarship essay questions directly into the form, and I was so consumed with pouring my heart into it that I didn't even think of saving what I had wrote. Silly me.  Writing those answers, however, made me realize my goals a bit more clear. It felt good to have a direct question on what I'm doing and who I am.

I realized that I love to love, because I feel that if you have love in your heart, no good deed is impossible. Love is that kind of force that pushes you above and beyond just passing by. I wasn't always so full of love, especially in my early high school years.

For a long time, I only thought about me, but when I fell on hard times, others weren't so shallow. I fell into a deep depression, the whole world was black to me. I have recieved so much love in the past few years, from friends, family, teachers, all of them trying to help me as much as they can. They love me, and it still brings me to tears how much people loved me when I was so horrible.  I want to do the same, I want to impact someone's life for the better as much as my life has been impacted.

One person who especially fought for me was a teacher. She tried to give me encouragement and an open ear whenever she could. If I was having a bad day, she would give me a hug on the way out of class. I never imagined someone who has no relation to me could be so kind. She helped me with personal issues, school issues, and I don't think I would be alive and attending college if it wasn't for her. Because of this special teacher, I want to be a teacher, and be able to help students who are just like me. It's almost like paying back the world for all the kindness I have recieved.

I feel so full of love, as if I am about to burst with love, life, hope and all the things that make existance worth living. I may be a bit lugubrious right now, but sometimes one can never have enough sentiment.

If someone asked me the question, "how can I help," and truly meant for me to pour my woes on to them, I would ask for a hug. Some days I feel so alone, moving from one place to the next, trying to do the things for me to be successful in this life.  I'm surronded by a sea of people every day, but so very rarely do I conncect to them. Everyone has a cellphone in their hand, or a pair of white headphones in their ears. How do I ask them the time, or learn their name if they can not even hear me? A man is not an island, yet more I feel as if I am not an island, then the very least I am a peninsula.

After the hug, from the kind stranger, I would ask if I they could make it so I could just live, go to school, and help others. No work, no bills. By work I don't mean hard labor, or any sort of task, I relish in getting my hands dirty to create something. I mean going to a job, where I have to dress a certain way, act a certain way and do things to someone elses different standards. I suppose that is something close to communisim, but not, because power corrupts no matter what name you would like to give a government.