The Personal Essay about a Car

Grand Canyon National Park by Fredre'Oni

Cars. The magical machine that allows us to move through space and time faster to reach our goals. Cars have allowed me to move through time at a constant speed of 72* miles an hour to obtain my dreams. The constant motion from activities, military life, and school pins me on the highway leaving nothing but tire tracks behind. This speed allows me to feel invincible, but no persistent speed will allow you to be immune to life tragedies. The continuous motion causes you to undertake some of the bumpiest roads and the steepest mountains.

Throughout this journey, I would like to say I conquered some of the worst mountains of my life. I had to go through losing my best friend who was my grandma, my little sister, my grandfather, and recently my aunt. ************************************************************************************************ These trips left permanent scratches on my exterior. But I still persisted at 72 miles an hour.

After every scratch or dent, I would press the gas harder. Speeding through time, so no one could see the imperfections. Everywhere I went, I tried to look shiny and new. The image of a girl who had a wonderful home, loving family, perfect grades, involvement with the community. The perfect image. The image of positivity and light. I became the image of an overachiever and perfect model of student, leader, and daughter. This weight took a toll on me.

No matter how many times I drove across a treacherous path, I would try to solve it by adding on a new community service project, win an award/position, study vigorously, or just essentially press the gas harder. Harder. I needed to reach my goals faster, dragging my burdens with me. The roads played no mercy to those who attempted to defeat them.

My fuel and battery would eventually become drained. The perpetual motion would come to halt at the most unexpected moment. I ended up in the hospital with two concussions, a weak heart, and an overall exhausted body that was dehydrated. It left me at the epitome of imperfection.

At that moment, I felt stranded in the unknown. No one was ever close enough or near to help. The incessant motion of my life caused me to keep every single person who cared at a distance. The loneliness haunted every road I tried to take.The endless directions of where to go from here meant nothing.

I finally pressed the brakes and slowed down. The moment I slowed down I saw the scratched, dented, dead, empty car for what it was. I appreciated the roads that my life had conquered. There was no need to hide from embarrassment. I opened the doors for people to see the imperfections it had obtained. The flaws it carried did not scare the people who loved me the most, but brought them closer to me. There was no need to fear the imperfections in my life.

Their love for my damaged exterior and disfigured interior strengthen my resiliency and empathy for this world and myself. The future roads, scary destinations, vertiginous mountains had nothing on me for the confidence, love, strength, and resiliency bestowed upon me from my journey and the people who loved me will help me continue to reach my dreams moving at constant rational speed.

*72 because of my birthday.

****** = I covered this segment because it is a portion of the story that is not my story to share. It is about my family members that when they feel ready to talk about it they will. But for now, enjoy the other parts of this essay.