My Narrative Essay about Myself

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Personal Narrative


When growing up, my parents influenced most of our decisions; my mother used tales to scare us or make us do things we did not like doing. I remember one day my mother caught me playfully looking at the top of my nose and sticking my tongue at my younger sister. She shouted, "Don't ever cross your eye like that again they will get stuck." I felt scared and stopped immediately being an eight year old; I quickly obeyed the instructions after hearing what would happen. I was told that if I continue moving my eyelids, I would never be normal, my face will be deformed. I believed that my eyes would be stuck; from that day onwards, I never crossed my eyes again to scare my younger sister.
After all these years, I still wonder why I was so much afraid of how I would look like. I never cared much about my looks. After all, I was a tomboy who did not like to wear stockings of play with girls because I thought girls were weak. I preferred to play with boys. Why did I care about my eyes being stuck. The truth is that I did not want to be laughed at for my appearance. I recall my mother telling me that beauty is just but skin deep, what matters is what is inside. I believed in these two proverbs throughout my high school years. After high school the beauty saying started, holding much credibility in my life like the tale of crossed –eyes did when I was a young girl. In high school, it did not matter if you are the genius who scored straight As in all subjects or the nice girls who participated in all school charity events, or if you had a good sense of humor, boys liked girls because of their appearance. Most girls concentrated on their looks and could put more effort just to attract boys.
Looking back, I feel like cursing myself, but I have since learned important lessons in life that has made me be where am today. I remember on a particular day; it was an exam day this meant that after class I would meet my friends for lunch and celebrate the end of the term. Completing school was a big leap for me, end of school meant freedom. I was free to do anything, including wearing makeup and hanging out with older people. I started going out with my friends going to parties, hanging out with older adults where boys could notice my looks and were intrigued by my incorruptibility. I enjoyed the attention I thought I was given, with my new popularity, I spent more time to get ready every time I wanted to step out.
My daily routine included applying makeup that consisted of eyeliners, lipstick, eyelashes that made me resemble like a mud-faced raccoon. I started wearing clothes that even my mother would not let me pass through the door if I was still going to school. I woke up every day thinking about artificial things; I was always concerned about how I was going to look like, what my friends would think about me. One day while I was hanging out with my friends, I noticed that my eyelid was not moving to the right when I tried blinking and the dryness distracted me.
I quickly rushed to the washrooms and avoided anyone, when reached the bathroom I immediately looked into the mirror and tried to make some facial expression, but I felt no movement. I wondered if I had an allergic reaction, I needed some answers; the first person I looked for was my mother. I asked her if I need to go to the emergency room. My mother was equally worried because of different reasons. My grandfather died of stroke, and my mother did not understand what happened. My mother asked several questions over the phone, which could not answer. She quickly, called our family doctor and arranged that we meet at the doctor's office.
The next 20 minutes were the worst period of silence I had been subjected to. The doctor conducted some series of the test took my blood pressure. The doctor took quite some time, and when he returned, he looked at me holding a piece of paper in his hands, and he stated that I have both g...