Many people wonder,”Is it better to dream big, or to be realistic?” From my experiences, I would have to say that there is no right, or wrong answer to that question. I believe that you can just have a big dream, or you can just be realistic, but let me ask you this, ”If you just focus on being realistic, and if you don’t ever dream big on your realistic dream, then how will you pursue your passion, or grasp your dreams?” In the following of my experiences, I will tell you on how I developed a realistic, but big dream in my heart that I am willing to pursue in my life.
When I was living in 29 Palms California, i had to transfer schools, because I had to move to a new school district area. I was in second grade at the time, and I was pretty scared and anxious at being the new girl at a different school.On the first day that I attended my new school, nobody wanted to talk to me, or to sit with me. I felt really lonely, sad and insecure. When the next day came, kids started calling me fat, ugly, stupid, pathetic, and a freak. I remember running out of class, and I darted to the restrooms, and I hid in one of the stalls just sitting there crying nonstop. On the third day, I was sitting in class, and a girl walked up from behind my desk, and she hit me with her hand on the back of my head. When I went out to recess, children from second to sixth grade started calling me more revolting names, and they started beating me up. They kicked, punched, scratched, pinched, and shoved me down to the ground. I can recall coming home everyday feeling hurt emotionally, and physically.
Later on during my second grade year, I was so depressed that I started skipping meals. I was seven years old at the time, and I had no idea that I developed an eating disorder. I always came home everyday feeling weaker by the minute. Eventually, my body just had at it. One day, I got off the bus, and the second that I walked through my front door, I collapsed right then and there. My father then rushed me to the hospital, and the doctors rushed me to a hospital room, and I stayed in that hospital bed for a whole entire week. The remainder of the time that I was in the hospital, my friends, neighbors, and relatives thought that I wasn’t going to make it. They all started feeling so scared about losing me for forever, that they began to pray nonstop for my life, and recovery everyday. On sunday morning, I woke up from my pitch black world. The light was blinding, and I saw several doctors and nurses staring at me with shocked, but joyful expressions. I was scared and confused, and I asked them where my father was, and they told me that they would send him to me. When my saw me, he ran over to me, and he held me as if he would never let me go.
The next day, I stayed home from school. On the second day, my father and I decided that I would never attend that school any longer.