For most of my life I have been like a sidewalk, everyday a stampede walks across me as if I am something average and inconsequential. The cracks slowly worm their way through me, threatening to tear me apart from the inside. Trying to make it through the day without shattering into a million pebbles is exhausting work, and so I have had to find a motivation to help me make it through the day. This motivation helps me ignore the soiled footprints that litter my consciousness. This motivation, my faith, is the idea that I can prepare myself for a meaningful future, the keystone that holds my world together.

Writing about my faith seems like a daunting task, yet I am oddly comfortable with it. Perhaps it is because I am so passionate about my faith and the motivation it provides me. I was not like this a few years ago, when my world seemed to be crashing down around me, like an apocalypse threatening to decimate my future. I was bewildered, staring at the dishevelment around me, which I had inflicted upon myself. One terrible mistake and I was forced to fend for myself and prepare my own future. It taught me, though, how to be self-reliant and independent. These lessons are the reason I believe it was all worth it; I needed them to get where I am today.

For so many years I felt like a paper cut, a nuisance to everyone around me. I felt as though they could not wait to get rid of me, and in the meantime hid me, like a band-aid hides a paper cut. After a while an idea began to develop in my mind, a way out of the chaos I was planted in. I could focus my attention on getting an excellent education. This would grant me independence and the right of choice. I could choose what I wanted to do with my life and be the navigator of my own ship. I could choose to sink or swim; and swim I did. This was when my faith developed, and now I believe in it one hundred percent. I now know that my future can be worthwhile; I simply have to work for it.

I can relate to a shadow, so unique and mysterious. Yet, most people tend to pass them by, regarding them as a mere hint of the darkness within us all. I sometimes feel like an invisible fragment of the dark, somehow separate from the collective whole, marooned on an island of despair. However, I do not believe the dark is an ugly thing, but should be embraced as beauty instead. For in the concept of yin and yang there must be balance, and for there to be light their must also be dark. This is why I have chosen to pursue a career in medicine, because while their will always be the benefit of saving lives, death is an impending curse on us all. I do not want to be a regular doctor, though. I want to be a doctor who travels around the world and helps everyone who needs assistance. I want to spread the acceptance of light and dark and of the shadow.

I often feel like a plastic bag, something that is so easily discarded as worthless. It has been a knife stabbing at my heart, over and over and over again. While it may not be obvious, I am a deeply emotional person who absorbs everything tossed at her and I sit still, hopeless in accord with everything that has occurred in my past. Through my faith, I have learned that all is not lost and that one day I will be able to change lives. It will come in due time, but this time must be spent wisely. I plan to learn languages that will be useful in my travels, to learn how to open up my heart to those I love without it being impale, to learn about the essence of life itself.

My life is like a blank piece of paper, ready to be written on. Everyday I sit at my desk, worrying that I might give up and fail in my mission. Then I think of my faith, my desire to help others, and I am revived in my passion. I am then able to not only complete my homework, but study for extra things as well, such as the SAT test, memorizing Chinese, Hebrew and Spanish vocabulary, and reading every book in sight. The paper is limited, and I know it should be used wisely. Every action I make everyday must be thought out carefully, so I may not make a fatal mistake and ruin my future.

My emotions are often mines, waiting for the opportune moment to detonate. When this explosion occurs, my tears can be a prayer for peace, my glare like a thousand swords, and my heart still beats along to the drum of life. There is nothing I can do about this, but try to make the most of my time. Emotions can be a barricade, forbidding one to reach their full potential. I am aware that through hard work and perseverance I will make it to safe grounds on the other side of the blockade. It is my faith in a good future that guides me through the constant gun shots fired at my heart and inner sensitivity.

So many metaphors could be used to describe me and the way I feel. Yet, I believe only one does my story justice. I am a caterpillar, inching my way through life in an effort to survive. The leaves bend in the wind and threaten to rip me off course. However, I hold on tightly, because I know it is the only way I will make it to better days. The underside of a large leaf greets me and courteously offers me a place to weave my cocoon. Metamorphosis occurs and I emerge, a butterfly. I spread my wings wide and know that one day I will glide through the sky, free and one with the wind. However, first I must learn to fly.