Color is all around us. So often we take for granted how a color can transport us to a specific moment in time and transform our mood. Everything has color. Life is colorful. My life is a coloring book on which I shaded to the best of my ability. I didn’t always stay in the lines but in those instances I learned from my mistakes and moved on to a different page. With each page of my life growing more intricate, I grow and learn everyday and I am determined to make each day more colorful than the last.
One morning on my way to class, I decided to take a moment or two to take in my surroundings. There were so many passing faces; some were familiar, but most were not, leaving me with a somewhat empty feeling. In my small town of Union, New Jersey, the town in which I lived and grew up in, I knew just about everyone. Providence is amazing; it is so beautiful with such sophistication and there is something about the brisk autumn breeze that reminds me so much of home. I swore at that moment it was the same breeze. I was sure it was the same familiar breeze that pushed the multi-shaded leaves into my yard every year, chapped my lips and painted the trees vibrant colors. For a moment I closed my eyes and I was home, learning how to ride my bike with my uncle. I couldn’t help but to smile. That was when everything was easy; when the world was my playground and I took the breeze for granted. I have grown a lot since then.
Growing up, I lived with my mother and grandmother. With no siblings and a busy mother, I found myself very lonely most of the time. I would have traded in all of my toys for more time with my mom, for whom I would have done anything for to make proud. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a sheltered child; I was practically impounded and full of resentment for that reason. Looking back now, it was for my own good and at the end of the day I loved my mom more than anything. I was all she had and I was proud of that. My mom...