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Reflection Paper

Decent Essays

Change. It’s an ambiguous concept. It’s got a scale range from getting a new bed to losing a loved one. Sometimes it’s asked for and other times, it’s not. Sometimes you’re a little girl waiting to get a haircut only for the final result to be disastrous and other times you’re walking out of the salon feeling like royalty. Sometimes you’re simply changing the color of your walls and other times you’re moving to a new house. Sometimes you’re meeting new people and other times you’re losing your best friends. Change is a layer of color that never stays the same and for me, it painted a rainbow. My life had been pretty bland with dots of colors here and there. I never had to adapt or mold into something new. I never felt the stress of something new coming along, schedules changing or life being different. I’d lived the same routine for a good eight years of my life. While there were drastic changes in the beginning, such as being shipped off to India when my sister was being born or moving to a new state, I was young enough to not comprehend what was going on. In my eyes, everything was simply black and white with the only specks of paint being my family. But as the years went by and as I grew in age, I created memories and stories and links. The world became vibrant and the pictures began to change and life started to tilt, shift and turn. Change came in like a tremor — small, yet noticeable, but not enough to topple me over. It wasn’t until seventh grade when the

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