Identity
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I Got Brutally Knocked Out—And It Was The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me. Second Place in Coming of Age Challenge. Second Place in Identity Challenge.
When I was twenty years old, I got brutally knocked out in front of my friends and family. Let me take you back to the worst night of my life. The year was June 2016, and I was in the Air Force. I was working an eight-to-five job as a storeman, but my real passion was mixed-martial-arts. I had spent most of my teenage years in a grungy fight gym learning The Way of the Fist, and by the time my twenties rolled around, I was already an accomplished fighter with a record of three wins and no losses. I was an undefeated rising star poised to take the pugilistic world by storm. My confidence was at an all-time high.
By Alvin Ang5 years ago in Confessions
Simon's Friend. Runner-Up in Identity Challenge.
“So, Simon, I gather you like wearing make-up.” Quick, Simon think! What would Ashley say? “I certainly do, Sir.” Screw it, it’s true. The whole school was determined to make him crack. Youth was a rough ride for Simon Finner. Every day was the same. Persecution, verbal missiles, kicks, punches. As always the brutal events of the firing line lead Simon to the headmaster’s office for questioning. Only this day was going to be different. Don’t cry, he urged himself, whatever you do, don’t cry.
By Michael Brennan3 years ago in Pride
Hoping to not be too weird. Runner-Up in Identity Challenge.
“Bring your raincoat,” I said to Jade. My daughter was finishing up her morning routine: brushing her teeth, pulling her new braids back into a ponytail and laying her edges. The familiar smell of coconut oil meant she was almost ready to go. I heard the squeaky door on the shoe closet open and looked over. She reached past her Nikes to grab her Adidas, then remembered the field trip and pulled on her boots instead.
By F Cade Swanson5 years ago in Families
Too Black. Runner-Up in Identity Challenge.
I was pretty dark, even for a black kid, and the Texas sun I grew up playing in didn’t move me any closer to what the TV and the magazines said was beautiful. In elementary school, I was the constant subject of children’s jokes that began, “You’re so black that…”
By Carl L Lane3 years ago in Confessions
My Coming of Age Ghost Story. Runner-Up in Identity Challenge.
Where was I? Rather, When was I? I seemed to be standing on the same piece of ground I knew so well, but like a slide projector, time was flickering away in front of me. I was a child. The room was crowded and warmed by the body heat. Loud, crowded, safe. A fire was burning. I kept trying to get close to it and my mom kept pulling me away. How the flaming red embers allured me, crumbling to ash after being so alive just moments before. The blue-green at the very center of the flame, I wanted to live in that place. Always warm, always protected.
By M.C. Murphy 5 years ago in Horror
(Heart)Broken Bones. Runner-Up in Identity Challenge.
When a sport becomes the defining factor of your identity, an injury can feel like becoming worthless. From ages four to twelve, I was a competitive gymnast training in USAG. On average, I was practicing at the gym between twenty and twenty-five hours a week, plus competing on weekends during meet season. I even attended the pre-practice homeschool classes whenever they were offered. Gymnastics was undoubtedly the bulk of my elementary years, taking up most of my extracurricular time, providing me the most social interaction, and sculpting much of the characteristics that have come to make up my personality to this day. Being a gymnast was nearly equivalent to my name in terms of identity.
By Bethany Larson3 years ago in Motivation
