Have you ever had everything and then just lost it? My entire life I have gone through trials and tribulations. I have felt what it is like to have everything cleaved away from you. I had nobody left who, beyond doubt, cared for me, except my father. One day, my dad came home with a VCR tape; “Anastasia”. I was a little timorous of watching this movie that wasn’t the archetypal Disney movie. Sure, Anastasia gave the impression of being like one of the princesses I knew and loved such as Cinderella, Ariel, and even Jasmine, but for some reason, she wasn’t the same. I finally, after what seemed like hours of deliberation with myself, decided to watch the movie. “Anastasia” was an innovative sort of princess. She reminded me of myself and taught me that I would not die if I did not have what other children had; an affectionate family, a forthcoming past, and self-confidence.
Stimulated by Anastasia’s story, I learned that it was all right if my family wasn’t necessarily a family. My mother left me and my father when I was not even one-year-old. She left him an epistle explaining to him that she was leaving him and did not even come to the divorce to claim me. My aunt would bellow obscene profanities at me every day for doing something slightly off the beam and my grandfather told me I would by no means be his favorite or anything remotely close. Feeling superfluous, I knew I had to proceed with my own life. Anastasia was going to be the woman who taught me unerringly what I needed to know to make this more than just an aspiration. Anastasia had no family but she still seemed happy. What was the key to her happiness? She accepted that she and her past were not the same thing. She moved on with her life regardless of anything that co...
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...get and she would stop at nothing to get it. No matter how uncouth or incredulous people were, she was determined to reach her goal. Following Anastasia afresh, I carried myself in a new air. I worried little about the judgment of others, I refuse to let the minute things inconvenience me, and I loved myself. Anastasia, once more, took root in my heart as my solitary, proper role model.
Though little girls of my day were following such examples as Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, or even Lizzie McGuire, I chose a more dissimilar paradigm. Anastasia was more atypical for the emblematic young girl to follow, but seeing how our plights were akin, I knew she could instruct me better than anyone else. I spent two to three years learning from Anastasia. When the day arrived that I comprehended I did not have to follow her lead anymore, I became one with my true self.
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