tell me when you finish ... i love autobiographies. I want to read yours . This is great!
This is great,I really like it! keep on writing more.
Introduction Sometimes I feel like I’m dumber than I think but smarter then what the world perceives. My best friend is a genius and my other best friend is damn close. People say that IQ doesn’t matter, that it’s not accurate but that doesn’t make me feel any better. It seems more like a pity talk, and I think when people say this, they’re trying to convince themselves as much as me. My IQ is weird, I’m smart and I’m dumb. There’s multiple parts of the IQ test and typically they’re all about the same levels, but mine have drastic differences. They go from barely average, to gifted, to genius. I’m really not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I grew up my entire life being told that I wasn’t good enough, smart enough. After a while that gets in your head. It’s not like it was only delinquent children saying this, it was teachers, coaches, myself. I wanted to be the best and if I wasn’t the best, then what was the point? Not a great way to deal with things but that’s how I dealt with, life. It got crazy and I stuttered. Stuttered isn’t even the right word, I froze and shut down. By the time I woke up, life was just a haze. Everyone around me spinning in fast forward, me trying to catch up but being pulled deeper into the sand. I was five feet under! I was never good enough and now it didn’t matter because I was too far behind for anyone to notice, nor care. Why would they? I was a seventeen year old girl but what did that ever mean? I wanted to change the world. Never would I have thought that it would be the one changing me. I’m still not quite sure if it did for the better. Either way there’s always an outcome, when you’re moving forward. Unfortunately, what you put in isn’t always what comes out. It’s always another mystery box…maybe that box is “destiny” or “fate”, maybe it’s karma, maybe it’s science, truth is we don’t know and probably never will. For now, it just…is. Chapter 1 It’s funny, looking back to when I was a little kid, because it feels like it was me in a different life. Reincarnation, in a way. I was a typical kid in every way. Rephrase: I was a typical kid in my mind. Even as kid I didn’t want to grow up. I did in some aspects, but I also didn’t. To me there is a singular piece of myself that has always been treasured, my imagination. That may sound a little weird, I suppose, but it’s the one thing that no one could take from me. I remember going for a car ride and finding every possible bird nest. I found the littles things that adults took for granted. I loved that about myself. I kept lecturing myself on how I never wanted to let myself take the little things for granted. That I had to keep looking for birds nest, admiring them in wonder. It wasn’t a fear of growing up; it was fear of becoming like everyone else. However, I also had a fear of being different…now the anxiety comes in. Two fears that contradict each other; one nature and the other nurture. From the time I can remember, I never really fit in. I was the weird kid, but for a while it seemed like everyone else, were the ones who were different. Unfortunately, it didn’t take me long to realize that it was really me. My family says we’re all like that, but even comparing myself to them, I still don’t match. I have loving parents, one mom and one dad. I’m never going to be like them. My mom was an A/B student who grew up to be a teacher, which runs in the family. She’s now an entrepreneur and loves her job. My dad however had a rough childhood. I honestly don’t know a lot about dad growing up. When I was little he use to tell me stories about his childhood. My favorite was his “act of rebellion”. It was when he was a little boy, maybe eight or seven. He had a Great Dane and for obvious reasons he wasn’t allowed to walk the dog. One day he did anyways and the dog saw a rabbit. Long story short the dog ran away, after dragging my dad across the pavement. I don’t know why I love this story so much, but I could hear it a thousands times on repeat, and I don’t think I’d ever get tired of him telling me this story. Besides the little stories he told me as a child, I don’t know a lot about his past. As for right now he’s in charge of waste water and water plant. Exciting I know! Well, he thinks it is or at least he use to. Now, work has him beat and he just can’t get a break. Things use to be different. We go on a lot of family road trips and they’re fun, most of the time. Anyways, my dad use to point out every waste water plant, and water tower on the way; spitting out fun facts on those specific plants and towers. We all use to make fun of him by playing along. I don’t if he was actually excited about these places or trying to entertain us. Knowing my dad he was probably excited. He doesn’t do that as much anymore. It’s almost as if you have to force him to smile.
Its great ^^ keep it up ^^
3rd paragraph from chapter 1: "Things used to be different." NOT "Things use to be different." Just that! Overall, it's really interesting. I'd love to read more!:) Very talented! You have that in you!!