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Kathy Klein's Autobiography (submitted 5/17/06)
Defining yourself is usually pretty easy. I'm the girl that is "good" at everything she does. I'm the girl who uses sarcasm to get out of uncomfortable situations. I'm the girl that honestly does care what people think about her, and hates when people hate her. That moment changed my definitions. I was now the girl from a broken home, and that was one thing I had never counted on being. Change is hard, but being changed by something that's out of your control is the hardest. I was different than I'd been five seconds before the stupid word "divorce" had been brought into my mother's vocabulary. It hasn't left since. I had to watch my dad live in my brother's room for three months. I had to watch him walk out of our house, and wonder if this was the last day I'd be living with him for the rest of my life. I offered him my bed so that he wouldn't have to sleep on the top bunk for another day. I was locked in this emotional torture facility, and no one could possibly rescue me. I couldn't figure out how to escape, picking a lock never works in real life.
I'd like to say this story has a fairy-tale ending. I've gotten over it, been able to move past this, and even be okay with it. Divorce isn't a fairy tale, it's a horror movie. Every day I wake up missing what had been. Family dinners don't exist anymore; we're missing a very important person. I'd like to tell you they still get along, and we all remain a close family. I'd like to tell you I'm the girl who hates defining herself for fear of what she's become.