I was eleven when I met my dad for the first time. Most people can’t even try to understand looking into the eyes of the man that made you and seeing a complete stranger. Someone who was supposed to be there for you, to raise you, and protect you. But by the time you’re old enough to realize something’s missing, is that “something” really missing anymore? For the past seventeen years of my life, I’ve been raised by a single mother. A mother that doesn’t quite understand her daughter’s predicament, but does her absolute best to try. I am who I am today because of my mother. She has never given up on me; even when it seemed to be the easiest option. She didn’t have to grow up and take responsibility, but she did. For me. I’m very mature for my age. I’ve had to grow up and accept certain situations for what they are, instead of dwelling on what they could have been. I could blame my dad for everything that goes wrong. I could use not having a father in my life as an excuse to not try hard in school or strive to do my best in every sport I play, but that is not me. I truly believe that what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger. I use my situation as motivation to push myself to become a better student and athlete. I want to prove to everyone that you can make the best out of any bad situation. Without my life being the way it is, I would not be the same person I am today. I see the good in every situation, and I always have a smile on my face no matter what kind