Humility: Paragraph and Central Idea
Keli Cannon
Dr. Joan Swinney
WR 121; Writing Project 1
5 October, 2011
WC: 757
Decisions
Humility is a puzzling concept. Being aware of my own shortcomings, accepting myself for who I am and for who I am not. Realizing that I am the only person who is there for me all of the time. I’m my own worst enemy. I’m my own best friend.
I have spent my entire life putting everyone else first. Sacrificing my own wants and needs to accommodate those I love and even those who I felt the slightest affection for. I am responsible for allowing others to take advantage of me, to control me, to change me, and to destroy me.
As far back as I can remember I have longed for someone to love me. I have longed to be somebody. To mean something… to anybody. I employed various stratagems to gain friends under false pretenses, because I never considered the long-term consequences of my own actions as long as the instant gratification was there.
My parents divorced when I was 3. My mother ran off with another man, my father moved to Salem with my younger sister, and I was left to live with my grandparents. My grandmother made it no secret that I was not exactly a welcome addition in her eyes. My older cousin Lindsey, whom I idolized, loathed my existence. Living in a small town where everyone knew everyone, I became known as “Little Orphan Annie.”
Into adolescence, looking for an escape, I wasn’t yet 15 when I met the much older man who would become the father of my oldest child. He was cruel, violent, and angry but he paid attention to me.
I married him when I was 18 and gave birth to our son two months later, while he was in prison serving a 5-year sentence for armed robbery.
Alone with a newborn child and no parental support (by this time my father had died from alcoholism and my mother lived in Phoenix Arizona with her “new” family), I became dependent upon my new mother-in-law who was a closet drug-addict.
Eventually, I found my way
Dr. Joan Swinney
WR 121; Writing Project 1
5 October, 2011
WC: 757
Decisions
Humility is a puzzling concept. Being aware of my own shortcomings, accepting myself for who I am and for who I am not. Realizing that I am the only person who is there for me all of the time. I’m my own worst enemy. I’m my own best friend.
I have spent my entire life putting everyone else first. Sacrificing my own wants and needs to accommodate those I love and even those who I felt the slightest affection for. I am responsible for allowing others to take advantage of me, to control me, to change me, and to destroy me.
As far back as I can remember I have longed for someone to love me. I have longed to be somebody. To mean something… to anybody. I employed various stratagems to gain friends under false pretenses, because I never considered the long-term consequences of my own actions as long as the instant gratification was there.
My parents divorced when I was 3. My mother ran off with another man, my father moved to Salem with my younger sister, and I was left to live with my grandparents. My grandmother made it no secret that I was not exactly a welcome addition in her eyes. My older cousin Lindsey, whom I idolized, loathed my existence. Living in a small town where everyone knew everyone, I became known as “Little Orphan Annie.”
Into adolescence, looking for an escape, I wasn’t yet 15 when I met the much older man who would become the father of my oldest child. He was cruel, violent, and angry but he paid attention to me.
I married him when I was 18 and gave birth to our son two months later, while he was in prison serving a 5-year sentence for armed robbery.
Alone with a newborn child and no parental support (by this time my father had died from alcoholism and my mother lived in Phoenix Arizona with her “new” family), I became dependent upon my new mother-in-law who was a closet drug-addict.
Eventually, I found my way