Write a personal essay in which you reflect on moments of insight and revelation you have experienced. (2017)

#625Lab. Theme: divorce.

Some parts of this essay are outstanding, but it doesn’t have a convincing beginning, middle and end. A certain amount of stream-of-consciousness type writing is good within the genre of personal essay, but I would try to have a clearer overarching message.

Another essay about insight and revelation. 

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It was the darkest night I can remember. Even darker than the night my sister and I were left home alone, wandering between my uncle’s and my granny’s houses. (This is not a proper sentence, so I wouldn’t leave this in so close to the ever important beginning.) This night held a sinister tone, and it gripped my innocent heart and pulled it straight out of my chest with a force that can only be likened to being pulled underwater without a breath to spare. When you think of moments of revelation, I can guarantee you, nothing like was revealed to me that night would come into your thoughts. (I don’t think this overdramatising is necessary. Plus, I don’t think that addressing the audience is ideal in a personal essay.) After I discovered what I did that night, my young mind froze and it’s still thawing out to this day. Part of me will never get past it because part of me will remain forever frozen in that moment.

The dark night held a chill and when I was sitting around the kitchen table with my whole family, that chill began to sting. The sheen that glazed over my dad’s eyes screamed at me that something wasn’t quite right. The last time I saw my dad cry was when his brother died so all that went through my mind was that my granny, who was as fit as a fiddle, must be gone too. With these thoughts running through my mind, I was told something that never in my worst nightmares would I have imagined. I was grateful that my dear granny was still with us, but the kick I got winded me and left me breathless. Put simply, my parents marriage had broken down and nothing could be done to help it at this stage. Put in a more complex and dramatic way, my life had changed forever and would never be the same, always affected in some way by this monstrous revelation. (Personally, I don’t like the suspense created here. I don’t believe that suspense enhances a personal essay. It’s better in a story or descriptive essay. To some extent, it’s a matter of taste.)

I’d like to say there was some inkling that this would be the news coming my way, but nothing was ever major enough to point my mind specifically in that direction. It was always simple things that would go unnoticed by anyone other than me and my keen eye. Talking outside mass one Sunday morning, I took note that my dad wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. I distinctly remember, and he was. This was a clear sign that something was about to change, but my naïve little brain told itself that he wasn’t wearing it because he was a farmer and a painter and it would surely get ruined if he wore it every day.

Being the innocent child that I was, I figured that everything would surely work out with mum and dad and that we would go back to living our lives, undisturbed by the distant sound of divorce bells. But nothing changed. It was to my surprise that one day I had the revelation that mum and dad wouldn’t continue to live together. Who would go? Where would they go? When would they go? It was all happening too fast for my feeble mind to comprehend but everything, and I mean everything was going to change.

That Friday morning came when into town mum moved and with her, I went. (I would rephrase this.) I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited. As any child would be, I was dying to have my own room and somewhere to live other than the same house I’d lived in for the first twelve years of my life. This, to me, was like a whole new beginning, a home away from home and as refreshing as all of that sounds, I wasn’t long realising that it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I got an insight into what it was like to live a double life and let me tell you, it isn’t as sweet as it sounds. At just twelve years old, I had the revelation that I would never again be truly happy until my life was my own, until I lived under my own roof, free from the constant back and forth and back again. At just twelve years old, I hated the world and questioned it all. (Best part of the essay so far.)

I used to wonder why, what was the point of it all? Why am I here and what is my purpose if not to live a pointless, miserable life? I cried, more than I had cried in the entire twelve years before that. I cried, because of course, I was at the stage of self-blame. Was I ever really part of a happy marriage? Was I ever really wanted? Maybe things had begun to fall apart years before I was born and maybe I was just a consequence of trying to make things work. After all, could a twenty five year marriage fall apart just like that? I saw it coming years before I knew it was coming, but I never thought the day would actually come. Could I have prevented it? Could I have changed the way things turned out in the end? (Superb.)

I had everything all figured out before there was anything to figure out. Dad would go to work in America where he had many years before, and my brother and I would go with. My brother would go because he was the only boy in the family, and I would go because I would feel bad if all four of his daughters stayed with mum. I had an insight into what my life would be like when things weren’t showing any signs of going in that direction. Of course things didn’t work out the way I had imagined it all those years before, but it’s strange to think that I even had those thoughts at the age of just six or seven. (The message is excellent; the delivery could be clearer.)

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was written in the stars, but you never want to believe these things are a sure thing until you’re sure. All of these insights and revelations that I have experienced have shaped the person that I am today, and maybe I was always meant to be this person whether it was what actually happened that would cause me to become this person or something entirely different, maybe this was always who I would become. (This needs to be broken up into 2 sentences and cleaned up.) In a way, I would say that I am somewhat glad that it was this that I experienced because life goes on. I’m just grateful that I still have my whole family unscathed by the harsh realities that many face.

One Sunday evening, my sister and I were at my dad’s house. I was busy studying for the big J.C. when I heard dad and Lisa talking in the next room. Unaware of the fact that I could hear them, dad began to reveal something to Lisa. (I can see why the author is trying to use the word revelation, but this is getting contrived. Try to not overdo it.) This revelation was one that I never expected, especially not so soon, but I had to play it cool and not get too freaked out before my dad actually told me himself. Weeks later, the day had finally come. It was just dad and I in the sitting room when he turned to me and told me that he had met someone. Of course I had to act like I was happy for him, and I was, but part of me never wanted to see this day come.

It sounds awful but I can’t help but feel resentment when I think of her. She’s nice and all, but she really has shown me where my dad’s priorities lie and let me tell you, the truth hurts. She has given me an insight into what goes on in my dad’s head, and I can’t say that I like what I see. The truth not only hurts, but it’s ugly too. He puts her before his own children, his own flesh and blood. Excuse me if I sound dramatic, but how would it make you feel if your own father cared more about a woman you barely know than you? The truth not only hurts and is ugly, but it has the ability to rear it’s ugly head just when you start to think everything will be ok.

Insight and revelation sound so positive, but you put those words in the mouth of someone like me, every glint of light that you thought was there just becomes an illusion. A trick of the eye into thinking something is there when it isn’t. All it takes is three words for two people to start their life together, but all it takes is five for twenty five years of marriage to become nothing more than a way to pass the time. What if the thing that made it all happen was never really there? What if it was all just an illusion, a trick of the eye, the heart and the soul? What if…

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