When I was growing up I had a pretty happy childhood. I came from a broken home, however it never was an issue for me until I turned 12. My home life with my father had turned sour, and I found myself spending two whole summers being the sole parent to my younger brother and sister. My father and step-mother became neglectful of us seemingly out of nowhere. They spent all their time in their rooms, very audibly arguing and making very little attempts to hide their hatred for each other that had finally boiled over after years of marriage. Being the elected adult of the house at age 12, I was forced to spend every waking moment trying to keep my siblings from hearing the intense screaming matches being held just down the hall. After the time came around for me to return there for a summer I broke down crying to my mother that I did not want to go back. After my mother investigated this I came to find out my Father and Step-Mother had been abusing drugs. My father had become addicted to methamphetamines and steroids, and as a result his financial stability and marriage came crumbling. As for my siblings they were stuck with neglectful and resentful parents, both of which turned to adultery and even more toxic lifestyles. When my Step-Mother finally took my siblings out of the house my father went missing, presumably going on long drug benders and God knows what else. After attempting suicide twice my father finally resurfaced after weeks on end with no contact and checked himself in for rehab. My Step-Mother went clean as well, and after nearly a year and a half of struggle my father returned clean. However the wounds of neglect, trauma, and fear had run deep, and it took me a long time to forgive him. Especially when he impregnated a woman he did not know well and put himself into a deeper financial hole. As a child I always saw my father as a brilliant man, but as it turned out he had demons that pushed him into lifestyles that nearly killed him, and took him away from his children. Since then it has been a point of contention in my own head of what I really think of my father. Part of me forgives him for the simple fact that he is my dad, however I still remember the abusive parenting that not only cut me deep, but traumatized my younger siblings even worse, and I find that unforgiveable. Today, I use this experience as inspiration. Though I do not know what I plan to do in the future, I have massive aspirations to make a difference in people’s lives. I’m inspired by how art, humor, stories, and ideas can help people escape and unite together from the harsh realities of life. I want to have a platform where I can entertain and make people happy. I use my childhood story as a motive for greatness, to rise above what is thought possible and be something extraordinary.