Narrative Essay

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My coming to America

Leaving your country is always a difficult decision, and whoever has experienced it understands the sacrifice it entails. When I left Poland at 18, I thought I was going to be in paradise, but to my disappointment it was far from that. I had to learn a new language and work hard to provide for myself. What kept me motivated was the hope for a better future and an independent life. Independence is something thаt Ι hаve worked hаrd to achieve. My mom always said that ever since young age I have been very strong minded and did not like to rely on anyone for help. In the summer of 1994 my parents divorced and in the search of a better life, my father and I moved to United States. Ι was 18 years old. The decision took me by surprise because I was anchored deeply into Polish society and moving to another country was a big pill to swallow. I had no vote in the outcome and had to abide by my parents decision. I did not rebel against my father but instead, I embraced the decision with courage and curiousity. I was sad for the many family members and friends left behind however, I knew that moving to the US would give me more opportunities to be myself even though, I did not know how life was going to be. I arrived in America with a lot of hope and resolve. My father never explained his plan to me as to where we were going. During the flight with excitement on his face he murmured in my ear, the same way he used to do when he put me to sleep, that we were going to New York. I had a vague idea of NYC with its skyscrapers and envisioned having the life of Alice in Wonderland. We were received at the airport by some of my father’s friends and drove straight to Stamford, Connecticut. When I woke up the next day I looked out the window and to my big disappointment I saw no skyscrapers, just plain looking houses. But my mind continue to swirl around the idea that New York was different until I realized that Stamford was...
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