essay the story of my life

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How to Write a Life Story Essay

Last Updated: April 14, 2024 Fact Checked

This article was co-authored by Alicia Cook . Alicia Cook is a Professional Writer based in Newark, New Jersey. With over 12 years of experience, Alicia specializes in poetry and uses her platform to advocate for families affected by addiction and to fight for breaking the stigma against addiction and mental illness. She holds a BA in English and Journalism from Georgian Court University and an MBA from Saint Peter’s University. Alicia is a bestselling poet with Andrews McMeel Publishing and her work has been featured in numerous media outlets including the NY Post, CNN, USA Today, the HuffPost, the LA Times, American Songwriter Magazine, and Bustle. She was named by Teen Vogue as one of the 10 social media poets to know and her poetry mixtape, “Stuff I’ve Been Feeling Lately” was a finalist in the 2016 Goodreads Choice Awards. There are 11 references cited in this article, which can be found at the bottom of the page. This article has been fact-checked, ensuring the accuracy of any cited facts and confirming the authority of its sources. This article has been viewed 101,903 times.

A life story essay involves telling the story of your life in a short, nonfiction format. It can also be called an autobiographical essay. In this essay, you will tell a factual story about some element of your life, perhaps for a college application or for a school assignment.

Preparing to Write Your Essay

• If you are writing a personal essay for a college application, it should serve to give the admissions committee a sense of who you are, beyond the basics of your application file. Your transcript, your letters of recommendation, and your resume will provide an overview of your work experience, interests, and academic record. Your essay allows you to make your application unique and individual to you, through your personal story. [2] X Research source
• The essay will also show the admissions committee how well you can write and structure an essay. Your essay should show you can create a meaningful piece of writing that interests your reader, conveys a unique message, and flows well.
• If you are writing a life story for a specific school assignment, such as in a composition course, ask your teacher about the assignment requirements.

• Include important events, such as your birth, your childhood and upbringing, and your adolescence. If family member births, deaths, marriages, and other life moments are important to your story, write those down as well.
• Focus on experiences that made a big impact on you and remain a strong memory. This may be a time where you learned an important life lesson, such as failing a test or watching someone else struggle and succeed, or where you felt an intense feeling or emotion, such as grief over someone’s death or joy over someone’s triumph.

• Have you faced a challenge in your life that you overcame, such as family struggles, health issues, a learning disability, or demanding academics?
• Do you have a story to tell about your cultural or ethnic background, or your family traditions?
• Have you dealt with failure or life obstacles?
• Do you have a unique passion or hobby?
• Have you traveled outside of your community, to another country, city, or area? What did you take away from the experience and how will you carry what you learned into a college setting?

• Remind yourself of your accomplishments by going through your resume. Think about any awards or experiences you would like spotlight in your essay. For example, explaining the story behind your Honor Roll status in high school, or how you worked hard to receive an internship in a prestigious program.
• Remember that your resume or C.V. is there to list off your accomplishments and awards, so your life story shouldn't just rehash them. Instead, use them as a jumping-off place to explain the process behind them, or what they reflect (or do not reflect) about you as a person.

• The New York Times publishes stellar examples of high school life story essays each year. You can read some of them on the NYT website. [8] X Research source

Writing Your Essay

• For example, you may look back at your time in foster care as a child or when you scored your first paying job. Consider how you handled these situations and any life lessons you learned from these lessons. Try to connect past experiences to who you are now, or who you aspire to be in the future.
• Your time in foster care, for example, may have taught you resilience, perseverance and a sense of curiosity around how other families function and live. This could then tie into your application to a Journalism program, as the experience shows you have a persistent nature and a desire to investigate other people’s stories or experiences.

• Certain life story essays have become cliche and familiar to admission committees. Avoid sports injuries stories, such as the time you injured your ankle in a game and had to find a way to persevere. You should also avoid using an overseas trip to a poor, foreign country as the basis for your self transformation. This is a familiar theme that many admission committees will consider cliche and not unique or authentic. [11] X Research source
• Other common, cliche topics to avoid include vacations, "adversity" as an undeveloped theme, or the "journey". [12] X Research source

• Try to phrase your thesis in terms of a lesson learned. For example, “Although growing up in foster care in a troubled neighborhood was challenging and difficult, it taught me that I can be more than my upbringing or my background through hard work, perseverance, and education.”
• You can also phrase your thesis in terms of lessons you have yet to learn, or seek to learn through the program you are applying for. For example, “Growing up surrounded by my mother’s traditional cooking and cultural habits that have been passed down through the generations of my family, I realized I wanted to discover and honor the traditions of other, ancient cultures with a career in archaeology.”
• Both of these thesis statements are good because they tell your readers exactly what to expect in clear detail.

• An anecdote is a very short story that carries moral or symbolic weight. It can be a poetic or powerful way to start your essay and engage your reader right away. You may want to start directly with a retelling of a key past experience or the moment you realized a life lesson.
• For example, you could start with a vivid memory, such as this from an essay that got its author into Harvard Business School: "I first considered applying to Berry College while dangling from a fifty-food Georgia pine tree, encouraging a high school classmate, literally, to make a leap of faith." [15] X Research source This opening line gives a vivid mental picture of what the author was doing at a specific, crucial moment in time and starts off the theme of "leaps of faith" that is carried through the rest of the essay.
• Another great example clearly communicates the author's emotional state from the opening moments: "Through seven-year-old eyes I watched in terror as my mother grimaced in pain." This essay, by a prospective medical school student, goes on to tell about her experience being at her brother's birth and how it shaped her desire to become an OB/GYN. The opening line sets the scene and lets you know immediately what the author was feeling during this important experience. It also resists reader expectations, since it begins with pain but ends in the joy of her brother's birth.
• Avoid using a quotation. This is an extremely cliche way to begin an essay and could put your reader off immediately. If you simply must use a quotation, avoid generic quotes like “Spread your wings and fly” or “There is no ‘I’ in ‘team’”. Choose a quotation that relates directly to your experience or the theme of your essay. This could be a quotation from a poem or piece of writing that speaks to you, moves you, or helped you during a rough time.

• Always use the first person in a personal essay. The essay should be coming from you and should tell the reader directly about your life experiences, with “I” statements.
• For example, avoid something such as “I had a hard time growing up. I was in a bad situation.” You can expand this to be more distinct, but still carry a similar tone and voice. “When I was growing up in foster care, I had difficulties connecting with my foster parents and with my new neighborhood. At the time, I thought I was in a bad situation I would never be able to be free from.”

• For example, consider this statement: "I am a good debater. I am highly motivated and have been a strong leader all through high school." This gives only the barest detail, and does not allow your reader any personal or unique information that will set you apart from the ten billion other essays she has to sift through.
• In contrast, consider this one: "My mother says I'm loud. I say you have to speak up to be heard. As president of my high school's debate team for the past three years, I have learned to show courage even when my heart is pounding in my throat. I have learned to consider the views of people different than myself, and even to argue for them when I passionately disagree. I have learned to lead teams in approaching complicated issues. And, most importantly for a formerly shy young girl, I have found my voice." This example shows personality, uses parallel structure for impact, and gives concrete detail about what the author has learned from her life experience as a debater.

• An example of a passive sentence is: “The cake was eaten by the dog.” The subject (the dog) is not in the expected subject position (first) and is not "doing" the expected action. This is confusing and can often be unclear.
• An example of an active sentence is: “The dog ate the cake.” The subject (the dog) is in the subject position (first), and is doing the expected action. This is much more clear for the reader and is a stronger sentence.

• Lead the reader INTO your story with a powerful beginning, such as an anecdote or a quote.
• Take the reader THROUGH your story with the context and key parts of your experience.
• End with the BEYOND message about how the experience has affected who you are now and who you want to be in college and after college.

Editing Your Essay

• For example, a sentence like “I struggled during my first year of college, feeling overwhelmed by new experiences and new people” is not very strong because it states the obvious and does not distinguish you are unique or singular. Most people struggle and feel overwhelmed during their first year of college. Adjust sentences like this so they appear unique to you.
• For example, consider this: “During my first year of college, I struggled with meeting deadlines and assignments. My previous home life was not very structured or strict, so I had to teach myself discipline and the value of deadlines.” This relates your struggle to something personal and explains how you learned from it.

• It can be difficult to proofread your own work, so reach out to a teacher, a mentor, a family member, or a friend and ask them to read over your essay. They can act as first readers and respond to any proofreading errors, as well as the essay as a whole.

Expert Q&A

You Might Also Like

• ↑ http://education.seattlepi.com/write-thesis-statement-autobiographical-essay-1686.html
• ↑ https://study.com/learn/lesson/autobiography-essay-examples-steps.html
• ↑ https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/fulfillment-any-age/201101/writing-compelling-life-story-in-500-words-or-less
• ↑ Alicia Cook. Professional Writer. Expert Interview. 11 December 2020.
• ↑ https://mycustomessay.com/blog/how-to-write-an-autobiography-essay.html
• ↑ https://www.ahwatukee.com/community_focus/article_c79b33da-09a5-11e3-95a8-001a4bcf887a.html
• ↑ http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/10/your-money/four-stand-out-college-essays-about-money.html
• ↑ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xY9AdFx0L4s
• ↑ https://www.medina-esc.org/Downloads/Practical%20Advice%20Writing%20College%20App%20Essay.pdf
• ↑ http://www.businessinsider.com/successful-harvard-business-school-essays-2012-11?op=1
• ↑ http://www.grammar-monster.com/glossary/passive_sentences.htm

About This Article

A life story essay is an essay that tells the story of your life in a short, nonfiction format. Start by coming up with a thesis statement, which will help you structure your essay. For example, your thesis could be about the influence of your family's culture on your life or how you've grown from overcoming challenging circumstances. You can include important life events that link to your thesis, like jobs you’ve worked, friendships that have influenced you, or sports competitions you’ve won. Consider starting your essay with an anecdote that introduces your thesis. For instance, if you're writing about your family's culture, you could start by talking about the first festival you went to and how it inspired you. Finish by writing about how the experiences have affected you and who you want to be in the future. For more tips from our Education co-author, including how to edit your essay effectively, read on! Did this summary help you? Yes No

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My Life Story, Essay Example

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The beginning of my life was quite traumatic as my father was killed before I was born during the war in Liberia. My mother raised me as a single parent and sent me to school at the age of five, with the help of the UNHCR. Because of the help of UNHCR, I was able to learn things I would not have learned if they have not been there to support my studies and all the other needs that my mother and I had to get by with. This is why I thank them for their generosity.  After middle school, the only help from the UNHCR was for things such as medication and health supplies, so getting proper education became as an issue for my family. My mother struggled and we worked through the crisis until the American government approved us to come to America in the year 2005; this proved to be one of the best days of my life as it gave me a better sense of seeing the hope that is still there to get me and my family off from struggles that we have to deal with.

The memories of my life have caused me to despise the idea of even writing about it. I have realized since birth that life was not easy, and that it is full of strife that I and my family needed to survive. These experiences did not leave so much of a good thought in me and I think that writing about it even makes the situation harder to contemplate with. Nevertheless, I am hoping I could give a bit of distinction on what life has been for me and how it has created a better person in me through time through this writing.

Let me star by introducing my country of origin. Sierra Leone is a beautiful country in West Africa, with a lot of resources. Most people visit the country in search of diamonds; nevertheless, this resource has been the source of good reputation and war at the same time. This is why Sierra Leone is most known for diamonds and the civil war that last for a decade in the country. This war did not only destroy the country but also the lives of the people who have become alienated in their own nation; finding no protection for their lives because of the oppression they have to deal with from foreign elements who come into exploit the diamond resources of the country.

Before the war, my mom used to tell me how beautiful the country was, how people use to come from other countries to come get education, do good businesses, and how tourism has caused many people from other nations to come over for vacation. When she tells me stories like this, it makes me think more about how much better the country could have been without the war. The last war that lasted for a decade which started in 1989 was prolonged a few more years after that. It is because of these circumstances that I lived at least half of my life under the constraints of war.  It is also for this reason that I am not as interested as others are in sharing their life stories as I see mine as a mere blot of ink that has marked my history pitch black.

Although this is the case, I appreciate the fact that this writing activity might bring me into a deeper realization of my role as part of my country and as a supporter of my friends. I hope to bring better lives to my people, however, doing so requires immense effort and serious thinking which I could accomplish through writing down my experiences and reflecting on them through this activity.

One good thing about living in Sierra Leone is being able to mile with foreigners. Even in the middle of the war years, some white people from America and Europe come to visit the country. They use to bring all the children together, walk around with them, and tell them stories of where they from, and even play with the young ones. It is because of these instances that I realized my desire to get out of my country, learn more from outside in foreign nations and embrace a better option of living that is available for me and my family.

Education in Sierra Leone was one of the best in all African counties. During the British regime, education in the country was clearly effective and designed to help the young ones advance academically. However, in the long run, such system has been affected by the war as well. The poverty-stricken communities are almost choice-less when it comes to the education they could get that they even need to transfer to the city just to be able to get good education. As for myself, I attended nursery, kindergarten, and primary school in Sierra Leone. These days were both the best and worst days of my life. Learning in school was fun, but the journey going to school was harsh due to the war years. The two learning shifts make it hard for us to learn as much as well need. It give us only five hours in school every day which means we have to cover as much activities as needed within the given five hours of learning. I really did not like the morning shift because I have to wake up 6 am in the mooring to get ready for school. But my family used to wake up 5 am in the morning to pray, which makes my mom wake us up at 4 am in the morning. This goes on for a long time, and at some point, I have to get used to it; somehow, this attitude helped us a lot during the war years. Most of the time, the rebels are attack in the morning around 3 to 4 am. Most people are sleeping at this time and it makes it easier for them to accomplish their scrupulous missions during the said times. I remember one night when the rebels attacked and I was getting ready for school. The next thing I heard was a big and loud sound and people are screaming at the same time while they are running and calling their family members names. Most people were saying “Dan day cam o” which means “the rebels are coming”.  It took quite some time for tragic nights to end. For several years, we lived in fear for the coming of the rebels and remaining awake at such an early hour helped me and my family to be alert all the time.

Before the war, everything was much easier to handle. No worries loomed our heads and school was really fun. I remember going to school with my friends, walking and talking about what we going to do, what movies we should watch, what kind of games we should play tonight, and how we are going to study. We wear uniforms to school and only black and white shoes and socks. Like any other student, I did not like taking home works so much. It was such a drag for me to spend so much time learning even after school hours. Nevertheless, I know all these works helped me develop further.

Everything changed when I started studying ‘the American way’. Unlike the structured system in Sierra Leone, I had the chance to learn through particularly understanding what we are reading in class. I am able to realize the connection of my lessons to my personal being. I have learned how to academically survive and become more serious about my studies. I began to enjoy every bit of my education as I know the worth it has on me as I embrace a better life in America for me and my family.

The system of learning in America that I hope would be taken into account by the government in Sierra Leone is the provision of good and free education to students all the way through high school and some community colleges. Education is very important especially for individuals who have had to deal with the pressures of war. People need to realize that they have better hopes in life, and embracing such opportunities through getting good education is necessary. Today, only 50% of the students actually finish school all the way to college. It is because of this that only a few individuals get to find good jobs which further increases the poverty level in the country. I believe that with the attention of the government focused on improving educational provisions for the young ones, the country would be able to accomplish better options of living for the people and

Poverty in Sierra Leone makes it harder for people to live, go to school, have food for their family, have jobs, business, and everything else. We all know Sierra Leone is one of the richest countries in the world when it comes to resources, but yet we are one of the poorest countries in the world today because of the war years. War destroys lives and people living in war stricken countries are stripped off from every possibility of living better lives and embracing better options of being satisfied with what they do. This results to the increase of the number of uneducated individuals and increased violence in the country. Poverty makes it really hard for citizens to rely on the government like most people do in America.

In America, the government has social welfare programs that help citizens until they can make it on their own. If Sierra Leone can establish some of these programs, poverty in the land could be controlled accordingly. It is good to hear though that the country fairs better today that it ever did before when it was still under the war era. People are coping with the changes and are trying to deal with poverty in a much positive manner. I expect that in the coming years, more positive changes will come into place and more people would be given a better chance in life.

No, there is no better place than home. Sure, I have had bad experiences in Sierra Leone, but I also have good memories that remind me of what my country is capable of. Like any other individual who was able to see the good years in Sierra Leone, I would like to bring back the prosperity and peace that the country has. However, to do that, I first need to attend to myself, my personal capacities to improve in life for myself and my family. Once I have achieved such accomplishment, then I can face the possibility of engaging in a more remarkable process of helping my countrymen embrace a better life in Sierra Leone. When I come back to my country, I want to be prepared to help my fellowmen, especially the children in giving them the chance to experience the educational provisions I have received here in the United States.

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The Story of My Life

Helen keller, ask litcharts ai: the answer to your questions.

Helen Keller was born on June 27th, 1880 in Tuscumbia, a small town in Northern Alabama. Helen’s paternal lineage can be traced back to Switzerland, where one of her ancestors, ironically, was the first teacher of deaf children in Zurich. The beginning of Helen’s life was ordinary but joyful—she lived with her parents in a small house on a large familial estate, and was a happy and intrepid child. When she was nearly two years old, however, she was struck with a sickness which gave her a high fever and which her parents and her doctor all feared she would not survive. Helen’s fever eventually broke, but the illness left her blind, dumb, and deaf.

In the months after Helen’s illness, she clung tightly to her mother , and the two of them developed a few crude signs by which Helen could communicate her wants and needs. Despite Helen’s impairment, she still understood a lot of what was happening around her, and could complete small tasks, play games with her dog and the daughter of the family cook, and even get into mischief and danger, once nearly knocking her baby sister Mildred from the crib where she slept.

As Helen grew, so did her desire to express herself. Without any language at all, Helen often succumbed to fits of frustration and rage, and Helen’s parents—far from any school for the deaf or the blind and afraid that no tutors would come to their small Alabama town—feared that their daughter would never be educated. After a trip to an oculist in Baltimore, the Kellers were referred to Dr. Alexander Graham Bell , famed inventor of the telephone and advocate for deaf and blind children. Dr. Bell told the Kellers to write to Mr. Anagnos , the director of the Perkins Institution for the Blind in Boston, and they did so. Within weeks, they received a letter back telling them that a teacher had been found, and the following March, Helen’s teacher arrived.

Miss Anne Mansfield Sullivan’s arrival in Tuscumbia marked a new chapter in young Helen’s life. Helen and Miss Sullivan had an instant connection, and with Miss Sullivan’s constant, patient care, Helen began to understand and acquire language through finger-spelling the alphabet. Helen’s world was changed, and she found herself excited for the future for the first time in her life. Miss Sullivan instilled a love of the natural world in Helen, and though Helen came to realize that nature is as dangerous as it is beautiful, her love of plants, trees, flowers, and animals was deep and abiding.

Soon after Helen acquired language and tools of communication, she learned how to read in braille. Helen’s lessons in reading and in sign language were informal, and often conducted outdoors. Helen continued to learn in and through nature, and credits Miss Sullivan’s “loving touch” with awakening her to the pleasures and comforts of learning, nature, self-expression, and kindness.

In May of 1888, Helen began her education in Boston at the Perkins Institution for the Blind. She delighted in being around other children and classmates who were so much like her. Helen took trips to the seaside during summer vacation, and discovered her love of the water. In the fall, Helen and Miss Sullivan returned to Alabama for a stay at the Keller’s country home, Fern Quarry, where they shared exciting and perilous adventures in the mountainous countryside with Helen’s little sister Mildred.

In the spring of 1890, Helen heard the story of a deaf and blind Norwegian girl who had been taught to speak out loud. Helen had been yearning for a more articulate way of expressing herself, and decided to undertake lessons to learn how to speak with Miss Sarah Fuller at the Horace Mann School in New York. As Helen progressed in her speech lessons, she felt her soul come awake in a new way, and was delighted to return home to Alabama and share her new gift with her adoring family.

In the winter of 1892, Helen experienced a major setback in her creative life. She composed a story called “The Frost King,” inspired by Miss Sullivan’s vivid descriptions of the changing fall foliage at Fern Quarry. Helen sent the story to Mr. Anagnos as a birthday gift, and Anagnos was so pleased and impressed that he published the story in a Perkins Institution newsletter. Soon after the story’s publication, however, it was discovered that “The Frost King” bore striking similarities to a well-known children’s story called “The Frost Fairies,” published years before Helen was even born. Helen was ashamed, astonished, and embarrassed, though she realized that her plagiarism was inadvertent. She must have had the story read to her by Miss Sullivan at a young age, and had its details stamped upon the surface of her memory, as when she was still learning language she retained everything read to her in sharp detail. Mr. Anagnos, convinced that Helen had willfully plagiarized the story, forced her to appear before a “court” of teachers and administrators at the Perkins Institution. Although Helen was ultimately found innocent, the ordeal changed Helen’s relationship to the written word and caused her to second-guess herself in all of her compositions for a long while. Ultimately, though, Helen concludes that the incident did serve to teach her to think deeply about the problems and methods of composition, and the ways in which young writers must wade through the temptations toward assimilation and reproduction of others’ words and ideas in order to find their own true voices.

In 1893, Helen attended the inauguration of President Cleveland, visited Niagara Falls, and accompanied Dr. Alexander Graham Bell to the World’s Fair. The year was one of excitement and awakening for Helen, as she also began more regular lessons in the histories of Greece and Rome, French grammar, and Latin. In the summer of 1894, Helen began studies at the Wright-Humason School for the Deaf in New York City, where she fell in love with German literature and enjoyed a happy two years in the city. At the end of her time in New York, however, Helen’s father died, causing her, her mother, and her sister deep sorrow.

In October of 1896, Helen, determined to one day gain admission to Radcliffe (the women’s college at Harvard University) enrolled as a student at the Cambridge School for Young Ladies. Helen knew that there would be challenges and obstacles, but wanted very badly to be admitted to Radcliffe alongside her seeing and hearing peers. Helen’s teachers at this new school had no experience with teaching deaf or blind children, and Helen was almost entirely reliant on Miss Sullivan to interpret for her what her teachers in each class were saying. Helen’s course load was heavy, though, and on top of her rigorous studies there was a lot of extra work for Helen to do, like copying her lessons into braille and ordering specially-embossed braille textbooks from London and Philadelphia. Despite these challenges, Helen progressed well in school, and enjoyed the friendships she made with her new classmates. After Christmas that year, Mildred also enrolled at the school, and so Helen enjoyed many happy months studying, working, and playing alongside her beloved sister. Helen completed her preliminary examinations and passed with flying colors, and as she headed into her second year of school, she was determined to continue her unflagging success. Helen’s second year, however, featured a course load more heavily focused on mathematics—Helen’s greatest weakness in school since she began lessons with Miss Sullivan long ago. Helen was determined to keep up, but the principal of the school believed that Helen was falling behind, and refused to let her take her final examinations with the rest of her class. Helen’s mother withdrew both her and Mildred from the school, and Helen began studying with an independent tutor, splitting her time between Boston and Wrentham, Massachusetts. In June of 1899, it was time for Helen to take her final exams for entrance to Radcliffe. The college authorities barred Miss Sullivan from sitting during Helen with her exams and interpreting for her, but despite the unfamiliarity of her designated proctor and the difficulty of the mathematics exam, Helen passed her exams and gained admission to Radcliffe.

After one more year of preparation with a private tutor, Helen began school at Radcliffe, excited to finally fulfill her lifelong dream of attending college. Helen soon discovered, however, that college was not the “romantic lyceum” or utopia she’d dreamed it would be. It was difficult for Helen to keep up without careful attention to her “peculiar” needs. By her third year of college—the time in which Helen is composing this story of her life—Helen is taking classes which deeply interest her, and has come to learn that the way she was educated in the earlier part of her life—leisurely but hungrily, with an open mind and heart and a desire not just to memorize facts but to truly come to understand the history of the human race, the delicate nature of the natural world, and the integrity and beauty of the written world—was the best education for her all along.

Helen dedicates an entire chapter to expressing her love of books, and the indebtedness she feels to the stories which have brought her joy, comfort, and companionship throughout her life. Literature is her Utopia, she writes, and when she is reading, she does not feel disabled or barred from the human experience in any way—she has learned love and charity from books, and is grateful to writers like Shakespeare, Goethe, Moliére, Hawthorne, and Hugo for all they have taught her.

Helen doesn’t want her readers to think, however, that books are her only amusement. She takes great pleasure in physical activity and the natural world, and enjoys sailing, rowing, and canoeing. As much as she has come to love college, she treasures her escapes to the countryside in Wrentham, where she can get away from the dirt, grime, and speed of the city and find peace in beloved nature. Helen also enjoys taking in art and museums, attending the theater, and seeing the world through the eyes of others.

Helen gives thanks to her many friends, who have enriched her life beyond measure. She is grateful for her friends both famous and obscure, as well as those friends whom she has never met but with whom she has corresponded. Other people have made her life what it is, and have “turned [her] limitations into beautiful privileges.”

The Story of my Life

In this personal narrative, the author will recount key experiences and events that have shaped their life. The piece will cover significant moments, challenges overcome, lessons learned, and how these experiences have contributed to personal growth and identity. It will be a reflective exploration of the author’s journey and accomplishments. More free essay examples are accessible at PapersOwl about Cancer.

How it works

Throughout my childhood life, my dream was always to be a medical doctor. Besides, I also prayed so hard that my childhood girlfriend would get married to me and that she would even pursue the same medical course like mine.

My, then girlfriend and I were in the same primary and secondary levels of education until the College level when we moved to separate colleges. At the college education, my dream of pursuing medicine was validated when we joined the class with few other comrades.

Interestingly enough, my girlfriend was also privileged to be admitted to the medical school in the different college.

During my college life, I got to interact with different people of different races and built the best rapport with them. I also advised my girlfriend to follow the same in her respective college as this would create the best business relation with them in future. My future expectation was to establish the most successful and entrepreneurial cancer center at The Washington DC in partnership with my future wife.

I expected that my love for her would reach that point where we would be married together and be business partners at the same time. On reaching the second level of my college education, we both established a joint cancer treatment foundation at the New York City, which was later known everywhere to be having the best entrepreneurial attributes and skills in managing developing cancer cases. By having such kinds of developments, we were always invited for series of motivational talks in various campuses and colleges.

Besides, my next aim from such exposure was to develop a clinic at the Washington DC when I reached my final year at the college. On reaching my final year, I received some awards for my activities together with my girlfriend, and consequently, we were privileged to get government sponsorship to spread the medical skills to other neighboring states and continents. Similarly, my parents were so much impressed that they always offered me the necessary moral support from my needs. I then graduated from the college a year later with a distinction. I attained a first-class honor in my medical studies while my girlfriend managed equally excellent points that offered us free government sponsored scholarships.

I got engaged in some medical services as I earned while making some savings for my future expectation of having the most admired cancer center at the Washington DC.Usually, all my activities were moving smoothly because I always had the physical and psychological support from my girlfriend. We had loved each other for a very long time since childhood, and hence we had the reason to plan for our future endeavors.

By then we were already engaged, but still, it was a bit early to get married at that tender age since we were at our early 20s.However, during our postgraduate education, I chose to pursue the same medical related course, but my then girlfriend opted for a new field. The field of engineering. At that time, a disparity between us was identified because most the time we were always in different areas of activities except for the weekends when we could gather for refreshment vacations at the nearby beaches.

Still, we were very close, and our partnership with the foundation even grew stronger. Apart from daily educational and commercial activities, every month we both used to visit various places for recreational vacations. Some of the places we visited include Bangkok, Dubai, Mombasa, New York City, Seoul, and London within four years of our engagement. This was an indication of appreciation and love for my childhood “sweetheart.” I also bought her a Mercedes Benz car to appreciate her for giving me her time all those years of our existence.

A year later, our cancer foundation recorded an enormous recognition from various states, and as a result, we received more sponsorships which offered us financial support to help us run it smoothly. At the same time, my girlfriend had a separate engineering firm for herself, which also registered a handsome profit. She had opted to join the engineering school for her postgraduate education program and hence had the upper hand than me to deal with such engineering activities. I had only educational skills in the field of medicine unlike her who developed skills in both the areas, one in the field of medicine during her college level and the engineering skills she attained during her postgraduate studies.As we both reached 30, I proposed to her for an official marriage but she declined to claim that it was still very early to make such decision.

However, we always maintained our engagement as we often went out for dates. During my first date with her, I organized series of entertaining activities, and we both enjoyed. During that same night of our date, I decided to give her engagement ring while getting prepared sooner to get married to her. I moved to a well-decorated mansion at the Washington DC while getting motivated that my dream of having the best-recognized cancer center within the city was edging closer. I was wholly convinced that the time to get married to my long-time girlfriend had equivalently arrived because we had moved together to the mansion as we planned along on the structure, foundation and distinct functions of our future center.

I had set aside a right amount of money for buying a 24-storey building within the city to cater for all the activities within the premise.

During my second date with her, I noticed that besides my engagement ring, she put on a better one than mine. I did not hesitate to ask her but the answer she gave me almost killed me. She affirmed to me that she had been dating another man from her engineering school and that they had a proliferating joint engineering workshop within the city, which was always known everywhere to be furnishing the items used in the White House.

I got perplexed about the issue as I remained to wonder the kind of heartbreak I had encountered. From losing the love of my life to losing my business partner. To add more pain on the same, she was expecting a baby with the other man. I wondered why she had hidden all that from me for the many occasions we had been together. Those were the most disgusting days of my life as I lost interest in my occupation as well as the love story. Perhaps, in future, I will find someone who loves me unconditionally!!

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The Story of My Life

By helen keller, the story of my life quotes and analysis.

“…there is no king who has not had a slave among his ancestors, and no slave who has not had a king among his.” Helen Keller (Chapter 1, pg. 4)

Less than a page into the book, Helen Keller offers this brilliant metaphor that boils down the essential quality of being human and puts a sharp sword into every single argument supporting purity of blood. Keller is suggesting in her usual poetic way one of the essential truths of being: we are all connected. Potential is in no way afforded or limited by the circumstances of one’s birth because, in one way or another, we are all connected to both kings and slaves. This truth is important to Helen's own story, because she does not allow herself to be set back by the condition that befalls her.

“Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in, and the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began, only I was without compass or sounding-line, and had no way of knowing how near the harbour was.” Helen Keller (Chapter 4, pg. 11)

In this quote, Helen masterfully employs metaphor to explain what the world was like for her before she began her education. Without the ability to communicate with and understand those around her, she was entirely in the dark, similar to being on a ship shrouded in fog without any sense of direction. Miss Sullivan's arrival gave Helen the ability to navigate in spite of this darkness, empowering her to set her sights on lofty goals that she would one day be able to reach.

“Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten–a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me.” Helen Keller (Chapter 4, pg. 11)

This quote encompasses the moment when Helen finally realizes what she is learning. Before this point, she had imitated Miss Sullivan spelling words into her hand without understanding how they were connected to the objects she gave her. She at last makes the connection when Miss Sullivan places one of her hands under a water spout, and spells w-a-t-e-r into the other. This moment of understanding stands out in Helen's memory as one of the highest points in her education.

“Suddenly a change passed over the tree. All the sun's warmth left the air. I knew the sky was black, because all the heat, which meant light to me, had died out of the atmosphere. A strange odour came up from the earth. I knew it, it was the odour that always precedes a thunderstorm, and a nameless fear clutched at my heart.” Helen Keller (Chapter 5, pg. 12)

Fear clutches at Helen’s heart because she is alone and she senses a thunderstorm is about to place her in danger. This passage is wonderfully expressive and provides a tactile example of the oft-repeated assertion that when you lose one of your senses, you are forced to become more attuned to your remaining senses. With this experience, she learns that, while nature is beautiful, it is also powerful—and it will not always be on her side.

“I read`King Lear’ soon after`Macbeth,’ and I shall never forget the feeling of horror when I came to the scene in which Gloucester's eyes are put out. Anger seized me, my fingers refused to move, I sat rigid for one long moment, the blood throbbing in my temples, and all the hatred that a child can feel concentrated in my heart.” Helen Keller (Chapter 21, pg. 44)

Helen has a visceral reaction to reading this graphic Shakespeare scene, and this experience illustrates how profound an impact the books she reads have on her. After she learns to read, Helen can experience books the way any other person can. When she immerses herself in a book, she is not handicapped in any way, able to live vicariously through the characters, feeling their pain and triumph.

"Thus, it is that my friends have made the story of my life. In a thousand ways they have turned my limitations into beautiful privileges, and enabled me to walk serene and happy in the shadow cast by my deprivation." Helen Keller (Chapter 23, pg. 54)

Helen finishes her personal memoir with this quote, one that acknowledges not her own abilities and achievements, but rather the friends who helped her to get to this place. Helen speaks extremely highly of her friends throughout her autobiography, making it clear that she understands that her success is in part because of their dedication to her. The story of her life is actually the story of many lives that came together to push her towards her goals.

"It is warm." Helen Keller (Chapter 13, pg. 24)

This is Helen's first spoken sentence, uttered in 1890 when she was learning to speak with the help of Miss Fuller at the Horace Mann School. Though it is a simple sentence, this moment has remained ingrained in Helen's mind throughout her life, because, as she points out, a deaf child never forgets the first words she speaks. Despite her determination, no one really expected Helen to be able to learn to speak clearly—these words were the first step on her journey to proving them wrong.

"I think if this sorrow had come to me when I was older, it would have broken my spirit beyond repairing. But the angel of forgetfulness has gathered up and carried away much of the misery and all the bitterness of those days." Helen Keller (Chapter 14, pg. 27)

The incident with Helen's "The Frost King" plagiarism significantly scarred her spirit, leaving her with a deep distrust of her own mind and its ability to create original words. In this quote, though, she acknowledges how time has allowed her to recover from such a disheartening experience because she was young at the time it happened. This is another example of the way children are able to adapt and recover quickly, constantly looking forward, whereas adults often get hung up on events of the past.

"When the train at last pulled into the station at Boston it was as if a beautiful fairy tale had come true. The "once upon a time" was now; the "far-away country" was here." Helen Keller (Chapter 9, pg. 19)

Here, Helen beautifully describes her feelings of awe and excitement as she arrived in Boston for the first time. This was her first trip outside of Alabama, something that may have once seemed impossible for a child who could neither see nor hear. Her choice to compare her arrival to a fairy tale from a story book is also significant, since it emphasizes how books, for her, were a gold standard, a vessel through which she could understand and interpret the world.

"I never taught language for the purpose of teaching it; but invariably used language as a medium for the communication of thought; thus the learning of language was coincident with the acquisition of knowledge." Anne Sullivan (Part III, pg. 167)

This quote is one of Miss Sullivan's teaching adages from her reports on the early days of Helen's learning. She reveals that she was so successful in teaching language to Helen because she taught language as a tool with which to acquire more knowledge, rather than as a stand-alone lesson in itself. By enabling Helen to use language to discover more things about her world, she was able to guide the young girl to a level of language acquisition that had never been expected of her.

The Story of My Life Questions and Answers

The Question and Answer section for The Story of My Life is a great resource to ask questions, find answers, and discuss the novel.

Describe the structure used to organize helen's story

The structure is in three parts . The first two, Miss Keller's story and the extracts from her letters, form a complete account of her life as far as she can give it. Her style is called Affectionate Recollection. Despite the hardships Keller...

How many pages is this book?

This really depends on the publication of the book you have. Different publications have different number of pages.

The Story of My Life by Helen Keller

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Study Guide for The Story of My Life

The Story of My Life study guide contains a biography of Helen Keller, literature essays, quiz questions, major themes, characters, and a full summary and analysis.

• About The Story of My Life
• The Story of My Life Summary
• Character List

Lesson Plan for The Story of My Life

• About the Author
• Study Objectives
• Common Core Standards
• Introduction to The Story of My Life
• Relationship to Other Books
• Bringing in Technology
• Notes to the Teacher
• Related Links
• The Story of My Life Bibliography

Wikipedia Entries for The Story of My Life

• Introduction
• Publication history

Life’s Stories

How you arrange the plot points of your life into a narrative can shape who you are—and is a fundamental part of being human.

This article was featured in One Story to Read Today, a newsletter in which our editors recommend a single must-read from The Atlantic , Monday through Friday. Sign up for it here.       

In Paul Murray’s novel Skippy Dies, there’s a point where the main character, Howard, has an existential crisis. “‘It’s just not how I expected my life would be,’” he says.

“‘What did you expect?’” a friend responds.

“Howard ponders this. ‘I suppose—this sounds stupid, but I suppose I thought there’d be more of a narrative arc .’”

But it’s not stupid at all. Though perhaps the facts of someone’s life, presented end to end, wouldn’t much resemble a narrative to the outside observer, the way people choose to tell the stories of their lives, to others and—crucially—to themselves, almost always does have a narrative arc. In telling the story of how you became who you are, and of who you’re on your way to becoming, the story itself becomes a part of who you are.

“Life stories do not simply reflect personality. They are personality, or more accurately, they are important parts of personality, along with other parts, like dispositional traits, goals, and values,” writes Dan McAdams, a professor of psychology at Northwestern University, along with Erika Manczak, in a chapter for the APA Handbook of Personality and Social Psychology.

In the realm of narrative psychology, a person’s life story is not a Wikipedia biography of the facts and events of a life, but rather the way a person integrates those facts and events internally—picks them apart and weaves them back together to make meaning. This narrative becomes a form of identity, in which the things someone chooses to include in the story, and the way she tells it, can both reflect and shape who she is.  A life story doesn’t just say what happened, it says why it was important, what it means for who the person is, for who they’ll become, and for what happens next.

“Sometimes in cases of extreme autism, people don’t construct a narrative structure for their lives,” says Jonathan Adler, an assistant professor of psychology at Olin College of Engineering, “but the default mode of human cognition is a narrative mode.”

When people tell others about themselves, they kind of have to do it in a narrative way—that’s just how humans communicate. But when people think about their lives to themselves, is it always in a narrative way, with a plot that leads from one point to another? There’s an old adage that everyone has a book inside of them. (Christopher Hitchens once said that inside is “exactly where I think it should, in most cases, remain.” ) Is there anyone out there with a life story that’s not a story at all, but some other kind of more disjointed, avant-garde representation of their existence?

“This is an almost impossible question to address from a scientific approach,” says Monisha Pasupathi, a professor of developmental psychology at the University of Utah.  Even if we are, as the writer Jonathan Gottschall put it, “storytelling animals,” what does that mean from one person to the next? Not only are there individual differences in how people think of their stories, there’s huge variation in the degree to which they engage in narrative storytelling in the first place.

“Some people write in their diaries and are very introspective, and some people are not at all,” says Kate McLean, an associate professor of psychology at Western Washington University. Journal-keeping, though a way of documenting the life story, doesn’t always make for a tightly-wound narrative. A writer I interviewed several months ago—Sarah Manguso—has kept a diary for 25 years, and still told me, “Narrative is not a mode that has ever come easily to me.”

Nevertheless, the researchers I spoke with were all convinced that even if it’s not 100 percent universal to see life as a story, it’s at least extremely common.

“I think normal, healthy adults have in common that they can all produce a life story,” Pasupathi says. “They can all put one together … In order to have relationships, we’ve all had to tell little pieces of our story. And so it’s hard to be a human being and have relationships without having some version of a life story floating around.”

But life rarely follows the logical progression that most stories—good stories—do, where the clues come together, guns left on mantles go off at the appropriate moments, the climax comes in the third act. So narrative seems like an incongruous framing method for life’s chaos, until you remember where stories came from in the first place. Ultimately, the only material we’ve ever had to make stories out of is our own imagination, and life itself.

Storytelling, then—fictional or nonfictional, realistic or embellished with dragons—is a way of making sense of the world around us.

“Life is incredibly complex, there are lots of things going on in our environment and in our lives at all times, and in order to hold onto our experience, we need to make meaning out of it,” Adler says. “The way we do that is by structuring our lives into stories.”

It’s hardly a simple undertaking. People contain multitudes, and by multitudes, I mean libraries. Someone might have an overarching narrative for her whole life, and different narratives for different realms of her life—career, romance, family, faith. She might have narratives within each realm that intersect, diverge, or contradict each other, all of them filled with the microstories of specific events. And to truly make a life story, she’ll need to do what researchers call “autobiographical reasoning” about the events—“identifying lessons learned or insights gained in life experiences, marking development or growth through sequences of scenes, and showing how specific life episodes illustrate enduring truths about the self,” McAdams and Manczak write.

“Stories don’t have to be really simple, like fairy-tale-type narratives,” McAdams says. “They can be complicated. It can be like James Joyce out there.”

If you really like James Joyce, it might be a lot like James Joyce. People take the stories that surround them—fictional tales, news articles, apocryphal family anecdotes—then identify with them and borrow from them while fashioning their own self-conceptions. It’s a Möbius strip: Stories are life, life is stories.

People aren’t writing their life stories from  birth, though. The ability to create a life narrative takes a little while to come online—the development process gives priority to things like walking, talking, and object permanence. Young children can tell stories about isolated events, with guidance, and much of adolescence is dedicated to learning “what goes in a story … and what makes a good story in the first place,” Pasupathi says. “I don’t know how much time you’ve spent around little kids, but they really don’t understand that. I have a child who can really take an hour to tell you about Minecraft .” Through friends, family, and fiction, children learn what others consider to be good storytelling—and that being able to spin a good yarn has social value.

It’s in the late teens and early years of adulthood that story construction really picks up—because by then people have developed some of the cognitive tools they need to create a coherent life story. These include causal coherence—the ability to describe how one event led to another—and thematic coherence—the ability to identify overarching values and motifs that recur throughout the story. In a study analyzing the life stories of 8-, 12-, 16-, and 20-year-olds, these kinds of coherence were found to increase with age. As the life story enters its last chapters, it may become more set in stone. In one study by McLean , older adults had more thematic coherence, and told more stories about stability, while young adults tended to tell more stories about change.

McAdams conceives of this development as the layering of three aspects of the self. Pretty much from birth, people are “actors.” They have personality traits, they interact with the world, they have roles to play—daughter, sister, the neighbor’s new baby that cries all night and keeps you up. When they get old enough to have goals, they become “agents” too—still playing their roles and interacting with the world, but making decisions with the hopes of producing desired outcomes. And the final layer is “author,” when people begin to bundle ideas about the future with experiences from the past and present to form a narrative self.

This developmental trajectory could also explain why people enjoy different types of fictional stories at different ages. “When you’re a kid, it’s mostly about plot,” McAdams says. “This happens and this happens. You’re not tuned into the idea that a character develops.” Thus, perhaps, the appeal of cartoon characters who never get older.

Recently, McAdams says, his book club read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. “I read it in high school and hated it,” he says. “All I could remember about it was that this sled hits a tree. And we read it recently in the club, and whoa, is it fabulous. A sled does hit the tree, there’s no doubt that is a big scene, but how it changes these people’s lives and the tragedy of this whole thing, it’s completely lost on 18-year-olds. Things are lost on 8-year-olds that a 40-year-old picks up, and things that an 8-year-old found compelling and interesting will just bore a 40-year-old to tears sometimes.”

And like personal taste in books or movies, the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves are influenced by more than just, well, ourselves. The way people recount experiences to others seems to shape the way they end up remembering those events. According to Pasupathi’s research, this happens in a couple of ways. One is that people tailor the stories they tell to their audiences and the context. (For example, I tell the story of the time I crashed my mom’s car much differently now, to friends, than the way I told it to my mom at the time. Much less crying.)

The other is that the act of telling is a rehearsal of the story, Pasupathi says. “And rehearsal strengthens connections between some pieces of information in your mind and diminishes connections between others. So the things I tell you become more accessible to me and more memorable to me. Those can be pretty lasting effects.” So when people drop the cheesy pick-up line “What’s your story?” at a bar, like a man who nicks his carotid artery while shaving, they’ve accidentally hit upon something vital.

But just as there are consequences to telling, there are consequences to not telling . If someone is afraid of how people might react to a story, and they keep it to themselves, they’ll likely miss out on the enrichment that comes with a back-and-forth conversation. A listener “may give you other things to think about, or may acknowledge that this thing you thought was really bad is actually not a big deal, so you get this richer and more elaborated memory,” Pasupathi says. If you don’t tell, “your memory for that event may be less flexible and give you less chance for growth.” This is basically the premise of talk therapy.

And all of this doesn’t even account for all the conversations you plan to have, or elaborately imagine having and never have. The path from outside to inside and back out is winding, dark, and full of switchbacks.

Once certain stories get embedded into the culture, they become master narratives—blueprints for people to follow when structuring their own stories, for better or worse. One such blueprint is your standard “go to school, graduate, get a job, get married, have kids.”

That can be a helpful script in that it gives children a sense of the arc of a life, and shows them examples of tentpole events that could happen. But the downsides of standard narratives have been well-documented—they stigmatize anyone who doesn’t follow them to a T, and provide unrealistic expectations of happiness for those who do. If this approach were a blueprint for an IKEA desk instead of a life, almost everyone trying to follow it would end up with something wobbly and misshapen, with a few leftover bolts you find under the couch, boding ill for the structural integrity of the thing you built.

“I think that’s a particularly pernicious frame for people who become parents,” Pasupathi says. “That’s a narrative where the pinnacle is to get married and have kids and then everything will be sort of flatly happy from then on.”

And these scripts evolve as culture evolves. For example, in centuries past, stories of being possessed by demons might not have been out of place, but it’s unlikely most people would describe their actions in those terms nowadays.

Other common narrative structures seen in many cultures today are redemption sequences and contamination sequences. A redemption story starts off bad and ends better—“That horrible vacation ultimately brought us closer as a family”—while a contamination story does the opposite—“The cruise was amazing until we all got food poisoning.” Having redemption themes in one’s life story is generally associated with greater well-being, while contamination themes tend to coincide with poorer mental health.

Many people have some smaller stories of each type sprinkled throughout their greater life story, though a person’s disposition, culture, and environment can influence which they gravitate to. People can also see the larger arc of their lives as redemptive or contaminated, and redemption in particular is a popular, and particularly American, narrative. “Evolving from the Puritans to Ralph Waldo Emerson to Oprah Winfrey … Americans have sought to author their lives as redemptive tales of atonement, emancipation, recovery, self-fulfillment, and upward social mobility,” McAdams writes in an overview of life-story research . “The stories speak of heroic individual protagonists—the chosen people—whose manifest destiny is to make a positive difference in a dangerous world, even when the world does not wish to be redeemed.”

The redemption story is American optimism—things will get better!—and American exceptionalism—I can make things better!—and it’s in the water, in the air, and in our heads. This is actually a good thing a lot of the time. Studies have shown that finding a positive meaning in negative events is linked to a more complex sense of self and greater life satisfaction. And even controlling for general optimism, McAdams and his colleagues found that having more redemption sequences in a life story was still associated with higher well-being.

The trouble comes when redemption isn’t possible. The redemptive American tale is one of privilege, and for those who can’t control their circumstances, and have little reason to believe things will get better, it can be an illogical and unattainable choice. There are things that happen to people that cannot be redeemed.

It can be hard to share a story when it amounts to: “This happened, and it was terrible. The end.” In research McLean did, in which she asked people who’d had near-death experiences to tell their stories to others, “the people who told these unresolved stories had really negative responses,” she says. If there wasn’t some kind of uplifting, redemptive end to the story (beyond just the fact that they survived), “The listeners did not like that.

“The redemptive story is really valued in America, because for a lot of people it’s a great way to tell stories, but for people who just can’t do that, who can’t redeem their traumas for whatever reason, they’re sort of in a double bind,” she continues. “They both have this crappy story that’s hanging on, but they also can’t tell it and get acceptance or validation from people.”

In cases like this, for people who have gone through a lot of trauma, it might be better for them not to autobiographically reason about it at all.

“The first time I ever found this association, of reasoning associated with poor mental health, I thought that I had analyzed my data incorrectly,” McLean says. But after other researchers replicated her findings, she got more confident that something was going on. She thinks that people may repress traumatic events in a way that, while not ideal, is still “healthy enough.”

“The typical idea is that you can repress something but it’s going to come back and bite you if you don’t deal with it,” she says. “But that’s still under the assumption that people have the resources to deal with it.”

In one study, McLean and her colleagues interviewed adolescents attending a high school for vulnerable students. One subject, Josie, the 17-year-old daughter of a single mother, suffered from drug and alcohol abuse, bipolar disorder, rape, and a suicide attempt. She told the researchers that her self-defining memory was that her mother had promised not to have more children and then broke that promise.

“I’m the only person that I can rely on in my life because I’ve tried to rely on other people and I either get stabbed in the back or hurt, so I really know that I can only trust myself and rely on myself,” Josie said when recounting this memory.

“That’s pretty intensive reasoning,” McLean says. “So that’s meaningful in understanding who you are, but it doesn’t really give you a positive view of who you are. It may be true in the moment, but it’s not something that propels someone towards growth.”

It’s possible to over-reason about good things in your life as well. “There’s been some experimental research that shows that when people are asked to reflect on positive experiences, it makes them feel worse, because you’re like ‘Oh, why did I marry that person?’” McLean says. “Wisdom and maturity and cognitive complexity are all things that we value, but they don’t necessarily make you happy.”

Though sometimes autobiographical reasoning can lead to dark thoughts, other times it can help people find meaning. And while you may be able to avoid reasoning about a certain event, it would be pretty hard to leave all the pages of a life story unwritten.

“I think the act of framing our lives as a narrative is neither positive nor negative, it just is,” Adler says. “That said, there are better and worse ways of doing that narrative process for our mental health.”

In his research, Adler has noticed two themes in people’s stories that tend to correlate with better well-being: agency, or feeling like you are in control of your life, and communion, or feeling like you have good relationships in your life. The connection is “a little fuzzier” with communion, Adler says—there’s a strong relationship between communion and well-being at the same moment; it’s less clear if feeling communion now predicts well-being later.

But agency sure does. It makes sense, because feelings of helplessness and hopelessness are classic symptoms of depression, that feeling in control would be good for mental health. Adler did a longitudinal study of 47 adults undergoing therapy, having them write personal narratives and complete mental-health assessments over the course of 12 therapy sessions. What he found was not only that themes of agency in participants’ stories increased over time and that mental health increased, and that the two were related, but that increased agency actually appeared in stories before people’s mental health improved.

“It’s sort of like people put out a new version of themselves and lived their way into it,” Adler says.

(There’s something about the narrative form, specifically—while expressing thoughts and feelings about negative events seems to help people’s well-being, one study found that writing them in a narrative form helped more than just listing them.)

But, he continues, “I’m not like Mr. Agency, agency at all costs. I don’t believe that. If you have Stage 4 cancer, agency may be good for you, but is it a rational choice? And I do think [redemption] is good in the long term, but in the throes of really struggling with illness, I don’t know that it actually helps people.”

But I wondered: Though agency may be good for you, does seeing yourself as a strong protagonist come at a cost to the other characters in your story? Are there implications for empathy if we see other people as bit players instead of protagonists in their own right?

“That’s actually kind of an interesting empirical idea,” Pasupathi says. “I don’t know that anybody’s looking at that.”

As Adler’s work shows, people need to see themselves as actors to a certain degree. And Pasupathi’s work shows that other people play a big role in shaping life stories. The question, perhaps, is how much people recognize that their agency is not absolute.

According to one study, highly generative people—that is, people who are caring and committed to helping future generations— often tell stories about others who helped them in the past. McAdams suggests that narcissists are probably more likely to do the opposite—“People [who] are really good at talking about themselves and pushing their own narrative, but they’re not willing to listen to yours.”

“If our stories are about us as triumphant agents going through life and overcoming, and they underplay the role of other people and the role of institutional support in helping us do those things, we are likely to be less good at recognizing how other people’s lives are constrained by institutions and other people,” Pasupathi says. “I think that has real implications for how we think about inequity in our society. The more the whole world is designed to work for you, the less you are aware that it is working for you.”

It’s a dizzying problem: People use stories to make sense of life, but how much do those stories reflect life’s realities? Even allowing for the fact that people are capable of complex Joyce-ian storytelling, biases, personality differences, or emotions can lead different people to see the same event differently. And considering how susceptible humans are to false memories, who’s to say that the plot points in someone’s life story really happened, or happened the way she thought they did, or really caused the effects she saw from them?

Pasupathi’s not convinced that it matters that much whether life stories are perfectly accurate. A lot of false-memory research has to do with eyewitness testimony , where it matters a whole lot whether a person is telling a story precisely as it happened. But for narrative-psychology researchers, “What really matters isn’t so much whether it’s true in the forensic sense, in the legal sense,” she says. “What really matters is whether people are making something meaningful and coherent out of what happened. Any creation of a narrative is a bit of a lie. And some lies have enough truth.”

Organizing the past into a narrative isn’t a way just to understand the self but also to attempt to predict the future. Which is interesting, because the storytelling device that seems most incompatible with the realities of actual life is foreshadowing. Metaphors, sure. As college literature-class discussion sections taught me, you can see anything as a metaphor if you try hard enough. Motifs, definitely. Even if you’re living your life as randomly as possible, enough things will happen that, like monkeys with typewriters, patterns will start to emerge.

But no matter how hard you try, no matter how badly you want to, there is no way to truly know the future, and the world isn’t really organizing itself to give you hints. If you’re prone to overthinking, and playing out every possible scenario in your head in advance, you can see foreshadowing in everything. The look your partner gives you means a fight is on the horizon, that compliment from your boss means you’re on track for a promotion, all the little things you’ve forgotten over the years mean you’re definitely going to get dementia when you’re old.

“Actual life is full of false clues and signposts that lead nowhere,” E.M. Forster once wrote. These become obvious in the keeping of a diary: “Imagine a biography that includes not just a narrative but also all the events that failed to foreshadow,” Manguso writes in Ongoingness, the book about her 25-year diary . “ Most of what the diary includes foreshadows nothing.”

So what to do, then, with all the things that don’t fit tidily? There is evidence that finding some “unity” in your narrative identity is better, psychologically, than not finding it. And it probably is easier to just drop those things as you pull patterns from the chaos, though it may take some readjusting.

But Pasupathi rejects that. “I would want to see people do a good job of not trying to leave stuff out because they can’t make it fit,” she says. “We’re not trying to make pieces of your life go away.”

And so even with the dead ends and wrong turns, people can’t stop themselves. “We try to predict the future all the time,” Pasupathi says. She speculates that the reason there’s foreshadowing in fiction in the first place is because of this human tendency. The uncertainty of the future makes people uncomfortable , and stories are a way to deal with that.

“The future is never a direct replica of the past,” Adler says. “So we need to be able to take pieces of things that have happened to us and reconfigure them into possible futures.” For example, through experience, one learns that “We need to talk” rarely foreshadows anything good. (Life has its own clichés.)

There’s been some brain research supporting this link between the past and the future, showing that the same regions of the brain are activated when people are asked to remember something and when they’re asked to imagine an event that hasn’t happened yet. On the flip side, a patient with severe amnesia also had trouble imagining the future.

Similarly, the way someone imagines his future seems to affect the way he sees his past, at the same time as his past informs what he expects for the future.

“If you’re planning to be a doctor, and you’re a 25-year-old starting medical school, and you have expectations about what the next five to 10 years are going to be like, you’ve probably construed a narrative from your past that helps you understand how you got to this point,” McAdams says. “Then, say, you get into med school and you hate it and you drop out, you probably at the same time are going to change your past. You rewrite the history.”

A life story is written in chalk, not ink, and it can be changed. “You’re both the narrator and the main character of your story,” Adler says. “That can sometimes be a revelation—‘Oh, I’m not just living out this story; I am actually in charge of this story.’”

Whether it’s with the help of therapy, in the midst of an identity crisis, when you’ve been chasing a roadrunner of foreshadowing toward a tunnel that turns out to be painted on a wall, or slowly, methodically, day by day—like with all stories, there’s power in rewriting.

“The past is always up for grabs,” McAdams says.

A Story Of My Life Essay

The Story of My Life Interesting enough, my life began on a Thursday night, on December 17, 1987 In Atlanta Georgia, where I was delivered at 9. Pm to my mother, Ruth Dye and father, Tony Jiffies. I was the second child for my father and the third for my mother. I Just didn’t know anybody or where I would end up In life after that moment. As I grew up, my life changed at each milestone In a person life. I had a rough and very fun childhood.

Essay Example on Story Of My Life Sample

I remember playing outside with family and friends, eating around the dinner table with my family and sleeping with my grandmother until I was 15 years old. My life was filled with more great memories than the bad, even though lived in poverty stricken neighborhood. My grandmother never once, made it seem that way because she made sure we were fed, bathe and had clean clothes and shoes on our feet.

Even though, neither my mother nor my father was in my life, when I was younger, my father decided to change that when I was 15 years old.

He wanted me to be more than cousins that had three kids on their hips and one on the way. He told me, “If you are ready to leave, you can go with me, right now. ” I was hesitant at first, but I decided this might be my chance to get out of the situation I was In. At that point, my grades had started slipping, I started not to go to school, but I know I TLD want that for myself.

Proficient in: Communication

“ Really polite, and a great writer! Task done as described and better, responded to all my questions promptly too! ”

I took that leap of faith and I went with my dad and the rest Is still writing its story.

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Why Fiction Matters

The story of my life (and yours).

Tiphanie Yanique

At the New School, where I am a professor, I teach a literature seminar called Girls: Narratives of the Girl Child . Every text we read features a girl. The class seeks to ask questions like, do girls have adventure? Do girls have subjectivity? Do girls have agency? Are girls fundamentally different from boys, from grown-up women? If so, under what circumstances? And if not, what are the barriers in place? And finally, how does literature answer these questions? Though the class might seem narrow given the subject matter, it doesn’t take much to think of numerous stories featuring young people, girls and boys both. Just think about what you read in high school or even later in college.

It turns out that so much of American literature is about youth. Perhaps this is because we are still a relatively young country. Either way, much of American canonical literature reveals that as a culture, we in the U.S. value the lessons taught and the experiences culled from childhood and adolescence. We see this at the formative time for self-discovery and self-making. Just consider The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger or The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Or go back further in our literary history and bring in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Even as our literary canon made room for writers of color, queer writers, and immigrant writers we see that the attention to youth remained. Consider Not Without Laughter by Langston Hughes, Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, or How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez. Even if the main character in a novel is a grown-up by the end, her narrative so often starts out in childhood. The examples for this are abundant: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. When weighing this, it does seem that fiction in the U.S. is fiction of the child. The American fiction tradition might just be a bildungsroman tradition. A tradition of self-actualization, of personal agency, of growing up and becoming who you will become.

Which is to say that fiction matters for many reasons. Some of these reasons are particular to one book or even more particular to one private reading experience. But over the life of a book and the life of a reader, it does seem so clearly and so simply that fiction, in this country, has all along been doing something incredibly profound: It has been helping us figure out who we are.

But over the life of a book and the life of a reader, it does seem so clearly and so simply that fiction, in this country, has all along been doing something incredibly profound: It has been helping us figure out who we are.

We sophisticated readers and writers are somewhat ashamed to admit this. We think this reduces fiction to some sort of simple cause and effect, as we might say happens when violent video games make young kids smack each other on the playground. We hate to think that we are so easily manipulated by art. And yet. And yet. This is so much of why we go to fiction. To be manipulated—worked on and worked over—even if just for the duration of the reading. We want to fall in love as the character falls in love. We want to be eighteen and sent off to the war. We want to be sixteen and losing our virginity and our minds. We want to laugh in the middle. To cry at the end. In fact, as both anthropology and neuropsychology seem to admit, fiction is designed to do this work of making us feel and act. This is why humans told stories to begin with. Our intention was to teach and to challenge. To examine and to explore. To say: This is human. This is our humanity. You are human. You are part of this. This is who you are.

Of course, books of fiction have been claiming this all along.

“You better not never tell nobody but God.” So starts Alice Walker’s masterpiece The Color Purple . In Dorothy Allison’s Bastard Out of Carolina , a character says: “I’m going to tell you who you are.”

The characters that speak these words, Don’t tell…I will tell you who you are , make clear the importance of storytelling in defining the self. They exclaim what fiction is for in their communities and what fiction can do for the individual. The fact that these characters are the abusive fathers of the novels telling this to the girl children doesn’t lessen the point. It underscores it. All around us, especially around children, perhaps especially around girls, there is a swirl of narrative telling us who to be. Fictions of all kinds are constantly shaping our personhood. Fiction is that vital and powerful. Stories will “kill your mammy” says Alphonso to Celie in The Color Purple . Stories will keep you from killing yourself, as Bone shows us in Bastard Out of Carolina .

Celie is told she’s evil and ugly by her father. This is a fiction to be sure, but one she believes because it is the only story of herself she is offered. It is not until Shug gives Celie another story—that every part of her is pretty and good—that Celie can begin to see herself as pretty and good. Shug’s version of Celie is a story, too (Celie is certainly rather homely in comparison to Shug). But it’s one that Celie can take and place over the other. This latter fiction is the one that gives Celie the confidence to transform her life.

When we experience fiction, we live that fiction.

Jonathan Gottschall, author of The Storytelling Animal (we humans are that animal) says this:

“(A)ll of us understand that fiction is about fake people and fake events. But this doesn’t stop the unconscious centers of our brains from processing it like it’s real. When the protagonist of a novel is in a bad fix we know it’s all pretend, but our hearts still race, we breathe faster, and stress hormones spike our blood…FMRI studies show when we experience these things, our brains light up as though that thing were happening to us, not just to the characters. So novels make us feel like we’re experiencing an alternative reality because, from the brain’s perspective, we actually are.”

So reading is about being in a different world and experiencing someone else’s life. Which is to say that reading might be very much about empathy. And when it’s a character who has gone through some shit that you have gone through, reading can also help you empathize with yourself via your own lived experiences.

Writers and writing teachers (I belong to both camps) rarely ever talk about this possibility and when we do it’s not usually to embrace it. Writing can help you know yourself or even love yourself? It sounds hokey. But I think teachers and writers veer away from this tall task of fiction because they are afraid to admit that the work we are doing in writing fiction is that dangerous and vital. It’s too scary to admit. It feels like a shackle—what do you mean, I have to consider that kind of impact? I’m just writing to get my story collection published so I can get an adjunct job! And yet art has always been in the service of building and destroying human beings. That’s why when one wants to erase a people you tear up their art, you burn down their libraries. To admit that fiction does not have this power is to be unaware of the history of fiction.

…when one wants to erase a people you tear up their art, you burn down their libraries. To admit that fiction does not have this power is to be unaware of the history of fiction.

When Daddy Glen in Bastard Out of Carolina tells Bone that he will tell her who she is, he does so to erase the stories her grandmother, aunts, uncles, and mother have been giving her. Her family stories, all of which are full of flat-out fictions (lies, we could call them), have nonetheless been the narratives that communicate to Bone that she belongs to her family. These stories of belonging are especially vital to Bone because she doesn’t look like the rest of her family and because “illegitimate” is stamped on her birth certificate. For Bone those family fictions are how she knows herself. After she suffers abuse from Daddy Glen, the fictions she tells herself are stories of horrific violence; stories about being caught in fire, being buried under hay. In these stories she is still strong and brave. She is the victim who saves herself or is saved by a kind hero. Because she has these stories of her own survival she is able to survive. The stories give her that possibility.

But we know this! Every reading parent knows this and so gives their children books they hope will allow the children to see their beauty or intelligence or bravery. We give our children books about sharing so they will, please, learn to share. We give them books about sleeping in their own beds so they will stay out of ours. About preparing for a new sibling. Watching any child study these books you know, you know, you cannot deny, that the books are giving the child a possibility—a possibility to be that sharing child. To be that child who can sleep all night in her own bed. Psychology makes it so clear that none of us escapes our childhood. But we seem to think that we lose this fundamental purpose of fiction as we age. We don’t.

Which is not to say that grown-ups read for instruction. (Frankly, kids don’t go to fiction for that purpose, either). I am not arguing at all that fiction must seek to instruct. But I am offering the idea that fiction asks the instructive questions. Fiction says, did you know humans could be this way? Could you be this way? Could this be you? Could this be humanity?

Which is also to say that stories don’t always save us. Stories can hurt us, destroy us. Readers who have found their own ethnicity or sexual orientation or able-bodiedness underrepresented in literature or marginalized in literature, have known the serious personal erasure that can occur with reading. It is still refreshing to find a complex character of color in American fiction. This is not to say that we readers can’t imagine ourselves into any character; of course, we can…of course, we must if we are to be good readers. But when the black character is always the uneducated maid or the magical negro, the black reader comes to understand quite quickly that though she may be called upon to have depth of imagination, the writer is often not doing the same. (This is why the current “We Need Diverse Books” campaign is so vital.)

Both The Color Purple and Bastard out of Carolina were banned (and in some cases, continue to be banned). They were banned because someone, many someones, thought these fictions did not present safe stories. Thought they were stories that would hurt girls, especially, because they were stories about girls who were hurt. The powers that be were sure that these books, though fiction, tell a horrible truth girls could not bear. When we ban books it’s often because we know that these books tell us who we are. We ban them because we don’t want to be what the books declare. Though, of course, The Color Purple and Bastard out of Carolina are both about the kinds of horrors young girl often are made to bear.

When we ban books it’s often because we know that these books tell us who we are. We ban them because we don’t want to be what the books declare.

Paradoxically, by not telling those stories, hurt girls, abused girls, bastard girls, black girls, poor girls could too easily come to believe that their personal stories are not only shameful, ( never tell nobody but God ) but also that their true personal stories made them shameful. Their storied selves were to be censored. Don’t tell. I will tell you who you are.

But fiction tells.

Fiction says every possible story is a human story. Celie and Bone are fully complex humans in their novels. Though banned, these books have been in print since they were published. Read and read, despite anybody saying not to. Though fiction, they tell a truth girls need to know in order to see that their own experiences as victims of abuse do not dehumanize them.

Fiction, too then, can say: Sing! Can say: Here is story like yours. Here is a story like someone you know.

But let us push this further. Perhaps it is not just that fiction can tell you who you are. But it is rather that fiction does tell you who you are. Too much pressure? Too bad. Because, in fact, storytelling is the way we instill cultural and personal identity. Good or bad. We know who we are through the stories we are told about ourselves, about our communities. We read and we place ourselves into the narrative. We can’t help it. It’s the way we are made. Fiction, however it comes, is a necessity in human culture.

In her 2008 TED Talk the neurologist Jill Bolte Taylor reveals her experience of waking up one morning and realizing that she is having a stroke. As she says, her “brain chatter” went silent. The left half of her brain shut down completely and she lost language. Because she lost her language, she also lost her memory. What she says this meant for her (and for all us) is pretty intense: “I lost all definition of myself in relation to everything in the external world.”

What essentially happened is that Dr. Bolte Taylor lost her ability to tell herself the story of herself. The narrative that she had built up over her life, how important she is in her field, who she loves, etcetera, was suddenly and completely unavailable to her. We tell ourselves the story of ourselves as we develop language. This story is, of course, a fiction. Someone else might see you as less or more talented than you do. In fact, the whole world might think you are unfair and stingy, whereas your own self-narrative is that you are judicious and generous. For the self, the self-narrative defines you. Language tells us ‘I am.’ When Dr. Bolte Taylor loses language she loses herself. Without this fiction, her own personhood did not exist to herself. The story you tell yourself of who you are is who you are.

Fiction matters because we cannot exist without it.

Did Bastard Out of Carolina or The Color Purple do this for me as a reader? Did they give me my humanity? Fuck yes. Absolutely. I was the bastard girl. The poor girl. The black girl. The girl with the bad daddy. In these novels, I saw that my private narrative wasn’t one that made me such a shameful object that it couldn’t be turned into art. Couldn’t be made into something beautiful.

The story you tell yourself of who you are is who you are.

But also, these fictions told me quite clearly that I also needed other stories. I needed stories, too, about girls and boys. I needed The Woman Warrior . I needed Drown . I needed so much! I needed to know I wasn’t one narrative only. Not just the abused girl. But the warrior girl. All of me could be valid, even when bad, even if a boy, even if Asian or white, for that matter. I could imagine myself into all those possibilities. I also needed to know that I could change that narrative. I needed to know that all the narratives weren’t about me, but were maybe about someone next to me. I needed to know that my stories are part of the community stories, part of the human stories. And that any narrative is possible. Did fiction save my life? Fuck yes. But more. Fiction made my life. Of course fiction matters.

In the season 1, episode 1 podcast of Radiolab called “Who am I” Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich examine this idea of fiction making us who we are. They introduce us to U.C. San Diego Neurologist, V.S. Ramachandran. He says that what is human about us is our ability to construct stories. That storytelling and the self go hand in hand. And he doesn’t just mean nonfiction. He means fiction. He says that because we can formulate inner thoughts (the “brain chatter” that Dr. Bolte Taylor talked about) we can also make stuff up, we can imagine things that do not exist. We can make fiction. His research suggests that the evolution of introspection coincides with our ability to tell a story. Basically, we think, therefore we make fiction. Because we can introspect, we can abstract and tell fictional stories. But also because we tell fictional stories, we can introspect and abstract. It’s not that one comes before the other. They occur as interdependent capabilities.

Dr. Ramachandran and many other prominent neurologists think that being able to tell fictional stories is what makes humans different from other sentient animals. The human being is not a human being just because we have language (dolphins have language, for example) but because we create fiction.

Which is to say that we humans must have fiction in order to be human.

We must have diverse and multiple fictions so we will have multiple versions of our selves and our communities. We must read fiction and write fiction, so that we can release the dangerous stories from their shame and so we can see ourselves in as many versions as possible. We must write diverse stories—stories where characters are rich and poor, and brown and yellow and black and white. Stories where we desire, where we repel. Stories that make us laugh and cry. Stories that piss us off. Stories we know intimately. Stories we didn’t know before at all. Because each narrative, each fiction, becomes our actual truth. Becomes who we are. And the more complex we are the more we are able to tolerate and even celebrate all of humanity in its complexity. This is a tall order for fiction writers.

James Baldwin says, “You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world. But then you read. It was books that taught me the things that tormented me most, were the very things that connected me, to all the people who were alive or had ever been alive.” Let’s be real: headlines in the newspapers do not do this.

Fiction does this.

I recently had the pleasure of being in the audience when the fiction writer Christopher Castellani accepted his 2015 Barnes and Noble Writers for Writers Award for the work his organization, Grub Street, does in teaching writing and nurturing emerging writers. In his acceptance speech, Castellani spoke about a novel he is writing about the playwright Tennessee Williams. One of Williams’ most quoted lines is: “Why did I write? Because I found life unsatisfactory.” Castellani says that he has come to understand that in this quote Tennessee Williams is claiming that writers write “not to escape life, but to reclaim it…Life,” Castellani continues, “is unsatisfactory because it’s a frantic blur; and writers write to put that blur in focus. The best writers do it so well it takes our breath away.”

There are perhaps so many reasons that fiction matters. But I am claiming this one as my own. Fiction writers and readers intentionally seek this meaning that we are all constantly and unconsciously seeking. If we write books of fiction it is because we are joining a special priestess-hood where being “of the cloth” is about putting the blur of the brain chatter into a focused beauty that might take a reader’s breath away. Readers are the believers in that focused beauty. Literary fiction, we call it. But we all believe in fiction, even if we don’t worship at the altar of it as art. It is just that simple and that profound. Fiction can make your life. Fiction is your life.

About this series

These essays on the subject of Why Fiction Matters were written by a panel of distinguished authors. We hope you'll find these essays both illuminating and inspiring, and that they'll lead you to think about why fiction matters to you.

Discover Our Fiction, Essays & More

Chris Jackson on the Privilege of Being an Editor, and Publishing’s Systemic Problems

Inua Ellams on Writing The Half-God of Rainfall

Family Histories

A Tribute to Edith Grossman

First Fiction

Our Other Futures

Moby-Dick and In the Heart of the Sea

Stronger by Way of Breaking or How to Handle the Failed Election

The Science of Magical Thinking

Supermarket Mittelschmerz

The Invention of the Self Is Another Kind of Fiction

Appreciating Tillie Olsen

On alice munro.

Four Surprising Influences on We Love You, Charlie Freeman

Ha Jin on Literature and Evil

That's My Story and I'm (Probabilistically) Sticking to It

What Was It You Wanted?

On Mind & Meaning

Remembering John Updike

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My Life Essay - 100, 200, 500 Words

Life is the state of being alive and the experience of living. It is a characteristic that distinguishes physical entities with biological processes, such as growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli, from those without such processes. Life is a complex and diverse phenomenon that encompasses a wide range of forms and functions. Life can be found in every corner of the earth, from the tiniest microorganisms to the largest animals. It is a precious and fragile thing, and scientists continue to study and understand more about the intricacies of life every day.

100 Words on My Life Essay

200 words on my life essay, 500 words on my life essay.

My life has been a journey of growth and learning. From a young age, I have always been curious and eager to explore the world around me. I have had many experiences that have shaped who I am today. Growing up in a small town gave me a sense of community and belonging while also allowing me to develop a love for nature and the outdoors.

My education has also played a significant role in shaping my life. I have always been a dedicated student and have worked hard to achieve my goals. I have learned valuable lessons about perseverance and determination, and I have been able to apply these lessons to other areas of my life.

My life has been a journey full of ups and downs, but overall it has been a fulfilling and meaningful experience.

Routine of My Daily Life

I am a student, and I have always been passionate about learning. My daily routine starts with waking up early in the morning, and I usually wake up at 6 am. I get dressed and have my breakfast, which generally includes cereal or toast with some fruit. After breakfast, I spend some time reviewing my notes and studying for my upcoming exams.

I then head off to school, where I spend most of my day attending classes and participating in various activities. I am involved in several extracurricular activities, such as sports, debate teams and volunteering which keeps me busy and active. After school, I come back home and spend some time doing my homework and finishing any pending assignments.

Overall, my life is filled with a balance of work and play. I am always busy, but I make sure to make time for the things that matter most to me. I believe that life is about making the most of every opportunity and making the most of every moment. I am grateful for the experiences that I have had, and I am excited about the future.

Life is a journey full of ups and downs, opportunities, and challenges. It is unique for everyone and it is something that we all have to experience on our own. As a student, my life is currently focused on school and my future aspirations. There have been some important moments in my life that I will always remember, and I am always looking for ways to improve my life.

Memorable Life Experiences

One of the most important moments in my life was when I received my first acceptance letter from a university. It was a moment of pride and accomplishment, and it made me feel like all of my hard work had finally paid off. This moment inspired me to work even harder and to strive for success in all of my future endeavours.

Another important moment that made me incredibly proud was when I received the first prize in an inter-school science competition. I had been working on my project for months, conducting experiments, analysing data, and perfecting my presentation. The competition was fierce, with students from all over the city presenting their projects.

How I Felt | When my name was called as the winner, I was overwhelmed with emotion. All of my hard work and dedication had paid off, and I was being recognized for my achievements. The audience erupted into applause, and I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment that I will never forget.

Despite these positive moments, there have also been challenges that I have had to face. One of the biggest challenges I have faced is balancing my schoolwork and extracurricular activities. It can be difficult to find the time to study, participate in sports and clubs, and still have time for my friends and family. However, I have learned that time management and prioritisation are important skills to have, and I am always working to improve in these areas.

Moving forward, I have many aspirations for my future. I hope to continue my education and obtain a degree in a field that I am passionate about. I also want to travel the world and experience different cultures, and to use my education and skills to make a positive impact on others.

Volunteer Activities

I have also been involved in several volunteer activities, and I have found them to be incredibly rewarding. I have volunteered for various causes, such as helping out at homeless shelters and working with underprivileged children. It has given me a sense of purpose, and it has made me realise the importance of giving back to society.

In order to achieve my goals, I know that I need to continue to work hard and to be proactive. I want to stay focused and determined, and to never give up on my dreams. I also want to continue to learn and grow, and to always be open to new opportunities and experiences.

My life has been a journey that has been full of memorable experiences. I have had my fair share of ups and downs, but I have learned to appreciate and make the most of every moment. I am grateful for the people in my life, and I am excited to see what the future holds.

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The Story of My Life

42 pages • 1 hour read

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapters 1-3

Chapters 4-6

Chapters 7-9

Chapters 10-12

Chapters 13-15

Chapters 16-19

Chapters 20-23

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Discussion Questions

Discuss the role that nature plays in Keller’s education and her growth as a person. How does nature both nurture her and frighten her? How does she ultimately determine that nature is necessary to her existence?

Analyze Keller’s description of Miss Sullivan’s teaching methods and attitude toward her student. How, in Keller’s opinion, is Miss Sullivan different from other instructors? Why is she so successful as an educator?

Consider what it means to Keller to be able to grasp the concept of abstract ideas. Why did she consider this such a vital necessity to fully live her life? Why are abstract ideas so important to human beings?

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How my (many) wedding superstitions saved my marriage

Following every good-luck rule was just one way of managing my fears around making it to forever.

I was raised in a family of wildly superstitious Italians. Black cats and broken mirrors were our warm-up act. My relatives would not exit from a different door of the house than they entered, pass a baby over literally any surface, come within a hundred yards of an owl, or buy, rent or honestly even visit any property in any way associated with the number thirteen. But the rules that scared me most as a child were the superstitions about marriage. Omens about the groom seeing the wedding gown (or God forbid the bride!). Predictions about what happens if it rains on the day (nothing good in my family’s personal system of belief — yes, I know that’s opposite what the rest of the world believes). Grave guidelines for that cute old-new-borrowed-blue rhyme (my aunt bought hundreds of sixpence in the ’80s so not one family shoe would be in jeopardy). And the grandmother of them all: Never accept a vintage engagement ring. To enter marriage wearing the karma from someone else’s relationship?! Mamma mia !       

Somewhere around high school I became the gray sheep of my family in many categories (full black sheep was a step too far from the family lasagna). One among them was my unwillingness to stay in line with that long list of superstitions. I started brazenly walking through front doors then dancing out the back, and I once opened an umbrella indoors — on Christmas. Naturally I thought I would also be the first rebel bride. What modern, free-thinking woman would let ancient practices rule her love life?  

Cut to me seconds after my boyfriend of three years finally asked, “Anything I should know about your taste in rings?”

I did not breathe before yelling, “It has to be brand-new!”

Thankfully he got the (very clear) memo, but my 180 on how to guarantee a “happily ever after” only worsened in the months leading up to my wedding. I downloaded six different weather apps, hid my gown in my parents’ basement and had three backups for each old/new/borrowed/blue item (so a dozen individual items). Somewhere around considering an entire rain date wedding, I started to wonder if there was something deeper at play. Why was I suddenly so committed to following every single rule? To be clear, I think it’s lovely to honor family traditions on your big day, but for me this ran much deeper than decorating with the same lucky peonies my ancestors chose to bring prosperity.

It hit me when I tossed a straw hat onto my bed, breaking a non-wedding rule ­ without a second thought: This wasn’t about my relationship with superstition, it was about my relationship with marriage . Following every good-luck rule was just one way of managing my fears around making it to forever .

I started to see each superstition as this sort of emotional litmus test for my feelings about the future — my brain’s way of dealing with the huge life decision I was making. The real question wasn’t, “Will a rainy day, missed item or heirloom ring mean a bad marriage?” It was, “Can anything actually guarantee that I won’t end up divorced?” Not, “What if the sixpence falls off my shoe?” but “What if I fall out of love with this man?” I decided to focus my attention on trying to answer those questions before I walked down the aisle (instead of looking for a fourth something blue). What was I afraid might happen to my marriage, and why?

Once I let my fears do some talking, I realized some anxieties were based on things still unsaid in my relationship . My fiancé and I had talked about many versions of our future but never had a firm conversation about parenthood. I also realized I needed to hear all his truest feelings about being tied to a writer who might never have truly stable income. And how exactly would he react if I said, “Sorry, no cats … ever . ”? Quickly the idea of not having these very foundational talks became scarier than sitting down to hash it all out. I felt a hidden-wedding-gown-sized weight off my shoulders after we finally did. I was also more convinced than ever that I’d picked the right partner.

And yet there was still no way in hell you could have convinced me to let him see my wedding dress before the day. 

The more air time I gave my worry the more I realized that underneath it all was a deep distrust in the entire concept of marriage . The couples in my immediate family are together, but I’m a child of the ’90s. Growing up, more than half my friends split their time between Mom’s house and Dad’s house. But I was also able to see how much I craved certainty and control over my life, and how much angst I felt around the idea of the opposite. I started seeing a therapist for help working through those feelings, which were spilling over into much more than my wedding planning. At first I felt so much shame around all my uncertainty. A bride with cold feet? Mamma mia! But the closer I got to my wedding date the more pride I felt in my decision to battle the fears versus ignore them, and the more comfort I felt with all the new tools I was developing to know whether or not forever was for me.     

Any relationship is a leap of faith. Marriage takes that hope in lasting love and makes it legally binding. The truth is you can follow every single rule in the Italian superstition book (yes, there absolutely is one in print), and still not know for certain whether you’ll make it to “‘til death do us part.” To me that’s what makes the decision to enter into a lifelong commitment so incredibly romantic. You’re saying, “I know how big this is, and I’m doing it anyway.” Or as I came to decide, that’s why I’m doing it. Marriage is the biggest way that I have to say that I believe we should be together for life. 

In the end, it rained on our wedding day, and despite all the options my “something borrowed” was the same thing as my “something blue” which was — irony of all ironies — an heirloom butterfly brooch from my Italian grandmother. But on May 10, my husband and I celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary, and I firmly believe we’ve made it this far because of those wedding superstitions I became obsessed with over a decade ago. Walking through that process showed me that my sudden rule-following was a sign that it was time for me to examine my motivation. And I say bravo to any bride that faces those fears head-on before saying “I do.” To get married without exploring your deepest feelings about the decision?! Mamma mia ! 

Jessie Rosen got her start with the award-winning blog 20-Nothings and has sold original television projects to ABC, CBS, Warner Bros. and Netflix. Her debut novel, “ The Heirloom ,” is out now from Putnam Books. 

To the moms all alone on Mother's Day, I see you and you are enough.

Most of my 14 years of motherhood felt like Mother’s Day was spent alone, including some of the years I was married.

Every May, when the second Sunday in May comes around, I think of the women who are where I was in multiple places of my mother journey: scared, alone and envious of the moms with a supportive partner at home.

This year, I've written a letter to every single mother struggling to celebrate herself today, who feels inferior to the other families she sees.

When the flowers don't come, when there are no "thank yous," when there is no one posting our picture, I want us to remember where our gift truly lies.

To our kids, this is the life and this love is enough. So, we can raise our glass.

Dear, single mom on Mother's Day

Maybe you woke up a little early today to give yourself the gift of solitude. There is no one to tag in at the end of the day. It’s exhausting.

You might get a few minutes before feelings of inadequacy come flooding in. You are reminded of all the things you can't do, never seeing all that you have. You wonder how a single-parent home is affecting your kids, who will be down in a matter of moments.

Then, the day will begin just like any other day.

Maybe there were once flowers waiting for you. Maybe there were never flowers at all. You may find crumpled up Mother's Day art in your kids' backpack today, but they may not recognize that there should be anything to celebrate.

You will prepare every meal, answer every request, create every moment, wipe every tear and calm every fear. But your requests will be left unmet, your moments 60 seconds at a time, your tears wiped by your own hand and your fears, ever ponding.

Yet every day you show up and you do it, maybe with a little envy for the two-parent home down the street, because it's hard to be a full-time parent and a full-time provider. You can't possibly do either perfectly well.

If you're feeling discouraged today, seeing only your lack, look inside.

You are the creator of all the good that you see.

Tonight, when you tuck in your kids, witness your gifts.

There may have not been anything on the table this morning, you may have cleaned up the house and cooked every meal, but there is peace in the room. There is joy on their faces. There is a tangible love providing security like the blanket wrapped around their feet.

Your family is not inferior.

You are enough. Your kids know it, and some day someone else will too.

But it has to start with you.

My son was feeling left behind: What kids with autistic siblings want you to know.

Your married friend may be struggling, too

Single mothers should know that married mothers aren't necessarily better supported. Sure, they may have flowers, but just like you, they have learned how to water themselves.

There were Mother's Days when all I felt was hollow. There were flowers, photos, dinners and lots of hugs, but it obscured a darker reality. Presence doesn't equal support. Lonely doesn't equal alone.

Knowing my "enoughness" led me back into singleness and back to the mother I've always been. So, cherish where you are and never trade your peace for support. Recognize yourself and celebrate this day.

Last year, I bought myself a bouquet of wildflowers, and this year, I bought myself a few.

My gift is this home I've created and the peace I feel at night. Sure, it may be a little messy, but it is far from inferior.

When I release my kids into the world, they will take this love that they've been given and begin planting it in places of their own, definitely better than if they had grown up in our broken two-parent home.

Yet I know that you, like me, may have a desire to share your life with someone. Just make sure that they are a seer too, a seer of your worth and your "enoughness," on more than just this special day.

Revisit Congress Avenue in 1914, where revelers in cars crowd out horse drawn buggies

You don't have much time before Father's Day, which falls on June 16 this year, to match the magnificent gift given by a Texas man, originally from Marlin, who came close to immortalizing his father.

Jack Robertson, 81, uncovered a treasure trove of old Texas documents, essays, letters, photos and other ephemera in a box of memorabilia that had belonged to his father, Rupert Robertson (1895-1968).

A University of Texas professor emeritus of accounting, Jack recognized the historical value of Rupert's descriptive essays written for his English classes at UT from 1914 to 1916, as well as the evidence from his military service during World War I, when Rupert was a balloonist.

Since the elder Robertson starred on the Marlin high school track team and earned his track letter at UT in Austin, his son Jack wanted to preserve his father's writing at the university's Lutcher Stark Center for Physical Culture and Sports, a marvelously eccentric museum and archive tucked into the north end of Royal Memorial Stadium.

Terence "Terry" Todd, the late director of the Stark Center, and his wide, Jan Todd, current director, welcomed Rupert's personal papers, many from more than 100 years ago.

"Terry asked me to include a biography of my father, so independent researchers could add the personhood of the author to the context of the stories," Jack says. "Ten months and 62 pages later, I delivered the biography."

You read that right, the dutiful son produced a biography of his father that weighs in at 62 single-spaced pages, which, while short of being a book, is much more than a bio sketch.

I can't pretend to have read every word of this opus, but combined with Rupert's own writing, the world of Texas in the early 20th century became incrementally clearer to me through this gift from Jack Robertson.

A choice essay on Austin from Rupert Robertson

In 1914, Rupert Robertson wrote the following essay about a night on Congress Avenue, one of many he executed for English classes at UT. Note the keen details as Rupert's attention wanders — through various sentence structures — from one sensation to another. This was a time when most of the city's commercial traffic and entertainment venues were concentrated on Congress, but before the Paramount Theatre opened as the Majestic Theatre in 1915.

This particular personal anecdote — and others like it from all over the state — is available digitally to the public at thestoryoftexas.com through the Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum as part of the "Help Us Tell the Story of Texas" project.

"The rain is coming down slowly, and it wets the street so that it glistens under the big arc lights like a large mirror.

"The red and yellow drays are bespattered with mud. The streetcars, automobiles and other vehicles are rumbling down the street with such a terrible drum that I would think I was by myself if I could not see the throng of people moving up and down the street.

"Some are gazing at the beautifully lighted show windows which contain various shades of the latest styles of clothing; some are on the inside of the store purchasing articles, and some are looking at the red, white and green moving picture signs, and debate with themselves whether to go in or stay outside and parade the street with the "mob."

"The crowd is composed mostly of university students, but they are not in a hurry tonight. This is unusual, because as a general rule, these fellows are restless, and always go with push and vim wherever they are. But the college spirit is here, for every now and then I hear the jolly laugh of some young man at the joke or remark of one of his companions.

"Boys and girls in couples, clad in their grey and brown rainproof garments, are present in great numbers. There is an air of happiness and success among them as they go down one side of the street and come up the other; the thought of the green-back English book and the brown cloth-covered mathematic text is left behind and forgotten.

"The crowd is divided into groups which represent different fraternities, clubs and various other organizations. Each individual bunch has a characteristic of its own. The Rusticusses wearing big hats, the Phi Gamma Deltas grey mackinaws with a blue stripe, the Sigma Nu's ties, and the other organizations have some similar distinction.

"The rest of the crowd is compiled of town girls and boys; brown (Mexican American); Negro men and women; and a great part of the Jewish population. Here and there, and at every corner, I see a policeman watching the crowd as a cowboy on horseback watches a herd of cattle.

"The street is as crowded with vehicles as the sidewalks are with people. Along the curbing are many automobiles with their radiators pointing toward the crowd and the rear ends toward the middle of the street. At intervals are found horses and buggies, but not many because automobiles are rapidly taking their place.

"Then there are the candy vendors in their dingy clothing, selling brown peanut and pecan candies. The popcorn man has his wagon driven close to the curbing, and is selling chewing gum, peanuts and pink popcorn. The whole scene has an atmosphere of relaxation and freedom in spite of the gloominess of the weather."

Rupert Robertson the athlete

"After starting the biography," Jack Robertson writes, "I needed to continue to the end."

Rupert Cook Robertson was born March 31, 1895 in the rural town of Kosse, Texas (pop. 500) in southern Limestone County. His father, Charles Onward "C.O." Robertson was born in Alabama in 1867; his mother Martha Adeline "Mattie" Price Robertson, was born in Blue Ridge in Falls County in 1872.

Rupert was known as a "city boy" in Kosse, where his family owned a general store, but he spent much time on his grandfather's Price's farm in Falls County, where "all activity revolved around the fields and seasons."

Even in the early 20th century, rural Texas remained closer to the rhythms of the 19th century. "His transport was shoe-leather and horse-and-buggy," his son writes. "His water came from a well. His sanitation was the outhouse. His entertainment was outdoors with family and friends."

Socially, this was the "segregated South," with scant interaction between the races, other than the employer-worker relationships, Jack reminds readers.

Rupert was not the only Kosse native to make it big in sports. David E. "Kosse" Johnson Jr. starred as a halfback on the Rice Institute team during the 1950s and was drafted by the Green Bay Packers.

Another nearby exposure to big-time sports: Pro baseball teams — such as White Sox, Cardinals, Reds, Athletics and Giants — held spring training camps in nearby Marlin, which attracted flocks of tourists because its mineral water that promised reputed healing properties.

Rupert attended Marlin High School from 1912 to 1914. He lived in a boarding house operated by his Aunt Clara Belle Price. Even today, one can walk by blocks and blocks of sizable Victorian and farmhouse-style homes in Marlin.

Since his father disapproved of football, Rupert ran track. State high school track meets were held at UT's Clark Field beginning in 1905. The big four regional teams were Belton, San Antonio, Austin and Dallas. According to University of Texas Interscholastic League records, Marlin competed strongly from 1910 to 1915, and the school earned the top spot in 1914. As usual, Rupert won individual and team medals. (Jack's documents on these events are startlingly detailed.)

When Rupert entered UT in 1914, Austin was home to about 30,000 people, and 2,300 of those were members of the university's student body. His freshman class, for which he served as secretary-treasurer, counted 674 members.

Rupert said he wanted to study business in order to take over the family general store in Kosse. Jack always imagined that his father was recruited for his track skills, but he also turns up evidence of family and friends who had attended UT, and would have supported Rupert collegiate aspiration. He belonged to that generation of Texans whose families had survived pioneer life in the country and saw brighter horizons for their children in the cities and through higher education.

Rupert joined an athletic fraternity, Sigma Delta Psi, as well as Kappa Alpha, which includes among its brothers athletes who were Rupert's friends. Sports were already big on campus and getting bigger. Folks like Billy Disch, L. Theo Bellmont and Clyde Littlefield led what was becoming a dominant college power in football, basketball, track, tennis, gymnastics, wrestling and soccer — Rupert played wing on the soccer team. In track, he did well in high hurdles, mile relay and other events.

Life in the military and its aftermath

UT sports hollowed out, however, once the U.S. entered World War I on April 6, 1917. Athletes were among the first to enlist and the campus opened military training centers, which were later badly stricken by the flu epidemic in 1918-1919.

Rupert enlisted in the Army on Aug. 5, 1917 in Houston. Much of what he wrote about his first months is fairly anodyne but still illuminating about Austin and San Antonio, where he trained at Camp Travis, during the war. (For instance, Rupert did not pause his habit of dating campus beauties.) After basic training, he was assigned to Fort Omaha, Nebraska, on March, 26 1918 to enter the balloon school. He qualified to be a spherical balloon pilot.

Rupert's family expressed concern whenever the press reported balloon any accidents and explosions, but young man made it through two years in the corps unscathed. He skipped the flu, too, at a time when the military was among the hardest hit sectors in the U.S. by the pandemic. Aug. 30, 1918, Rupert was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Air Service. After a series of service flights, he was honorably discharged on Aug. 11, 1919 with bronze victory button.

The rest of Rupert's young adult life was spent working in real estate, insurance and various other Kosse businesses, as well as farming citrus fruit and working for firms in the Rio Grande Valley, Corpus Christi and California. In the Valley, he met and married widow Lois Lucille Rose Bartlett; they produced Sara Ellen Robertson Moore and Jack Robertson.

Rupert suffered from various medical conditions, including diabetes and depression, some of them traced to his military service. Lois taught school and the family eventually moved to Marlin, where Jack grew up. A good deal of the remaining personal history consists of Jack's childhood memories of his family while growing up there. (We'd need another column or two to do that part justice.)

Rupert died Jan. 10, 1968 at age 72.

Michael Barnes writes about the people, places, culture and history of Austin and Texas. He can be reached at [email protected]. Sign up for the free weekly digital newsletter, Think, Texas, at statesman.com/newsletters, or at the newsletter page of your local USA Today Network paper.