I believe in second chances, not
three or four, just two. When you’re young, you grow up believing that your mom
and your dad are the two greatest people you’ll ever know or need; people you should always be able to trust. I believed this too until I was eight years
old. That year, my parents divorced and things were never the same. Not only
had my family fallen apart, but on top of this my parents couldn’t even stand to be in
the same room together. It was hard moving between homes, hearing trash-talk
all the time and constantly transitioning between this trash talking. I never
knew what to believe or who to believe in and for a while, I didn’t really believe in
anything. Moving to UMBC my freshman year was the most eye-opening experience
for me. For the first time I was separated from this world of hatred that had
been holding me back. I was no longer confused about whom to believe anymore
and seeing everything from a new perspective allowed me to realize that my own
dad had been lying to me for so long. After multiple attempts to fix our
confusing, broken relationship, I was finally forced to move on, but it made me
stronger. I was taught that you should always give people the benefit of the
doubt until they prove you otherwise. I used to hand out chances over and over
again and for so long, I trusted too much. I now realize that I am number one
and that sometimes people make mistakes and are worth second chances but
maintaining self respect keeps me from handing out that third and fourth chance
and I believe that I am better off because of that.
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