Personal Narrative: My Immigrant

I grew up in a primarily white middle-class suburb in Dallas, Texas. I was a millennial boy living the American Dream along with his immigrant parents. My neighbors were good people, I lived on a cul-de-sac playing sports and other classic games like tag. I was the only foreigner in my neighborhood (Turkish-American), but I felt as though I fit in. My family, however, was another story. My parents divorced when I was four years old. My father remarried within a year and took us (my older brother and I) in with him. I immediately rejected my stepmother at first side as she tried to impose herself to us in the place of our mother. This friction caused our whole household over a decade of suffering and misery. I cried for two years before