Life is full of adventures and experiences. The key to living well is making these experiences as meaningful as possible. I went through a very significant experience, which was actually more of a risk, about two years ago. I was 15 years old and I had to decide whether I would stay in my hometown or move to Monterrey, Mexico. As in every dilemma faced, there are pros and cons that will try to sway you. Time wouldn’t stop and the day of my decision was getting closer and closer; the less time I had to decide, the more confused and undecided I became. All I could do was imagine myself living the future in my hometown or in Monterrey. But, why was I put into this situation? Should I have stayed where I was born and where I’d lived my whole life or would the best thing be to move to an entirely new city? My family once consisted of my mom, my dad, two older brothers, and me. Unfortunately, my dad passed away in December of 2007 when I was twelve years old. Monterrey is a city characterized by having many foreign students because of the highly recognized university, Tec de Monterrey (ITESM).
Both of my brothers decided to study there. This left a lonely house with only a widowed mother and a teenage girl. That was the moment I realized we needed to do something, having me make the decision of my life with the pressure of time. I was born and raised in Matamoros, Mexico, which is a border town with Brownsville, Texas. Having my student passport, I studied there my whole life. I had many friends living in both Matamoros and Brownsville. This was a major factor on my decision because I didn’t want to leave them and, in Monterrey, I didn’t know anyone.
When I first walked in the room I noticed that Mark, the man I was interviewing, was in a wheel chair. His neck was leaning forward, his eyes full of sorrow, and his hands looked as if they were in pain, all crinkled up and moving in a very unnatural way. Honestly, I thought he was not in his right state of mind. But soon I found out what had caused his strange manner. I sat down right next to him ...
The thing was that in Matamoros, every corner of my house, every street, and every part of the city would only remind me of my dad who was already in Heaven. To me, this was a kind of torture. I had to either leave my friends and start a new life, or stay there with everyone’s support, but constantly having to deal with the suffering of not being able to let go of my dad because of my surroundings. I knew moving to Monterrey was a very good idea, but like everything, it had its negative views as well. It would be a good thing to move because my mom and I would now live with my brothers and we would all be united like we were before. This new beginning would help us overcome the death of my dad. The bad part was that, as I was about to enter high school, moving to Monterrey without knowing anyone would be very difficult. I had always studied in the USA, so attending a school in Mexico would probably lower my grades and make things more complicated. It was all about taking the risk. Decision time was near. After I analyzed everything, I understood that the best thing I could was to move to Monterrey with my mom. This was a very significant experience because it really impacted me. The first semester was very hard as I felt all alone. As soon as I began making friends, however I realized I couldn’t have made a better decision. People in Monterrey are very humble and caring. They taught me many things, enabling me to become a better person with better feelings. These friends were the ones who pulled me closer to God when I most needed Him. There was no better feeling than getting home and seeing my brothers living with me again. My family was once again united, and I am very grateful for all of this.
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