I am like clay

I applied to Emerson College this year, and I was asked 'what would the title of your life be?'
And this was my take...
The title of my life story would be, The Clay Phase. No, I am not a renowned sculptor; my greatest achievement in clay is a thumb pot I mashed together when I was eight years old. “The clay phase” is a term coined by mother to describe my puberty. At age 11, I was an awkwardly shaped kid—overweight, boat anchor feet, and not even five feet tall. In middle school, no one wants to be a ‘unique’ shape, but the same shape as everyone else. My mother tried to explain that I was growing, morphing like clay, to become a tall, thin, and beautiful lady. At the time, the words “clay phase” made everything worse. Clay is shapeless, squishy, and an artistic word for mud. Eventually I did grow into the lady my mother described, and now I look onto the term, “the clay phase”, with new eyes. It wasn’t just my body that has been morphing over these past 18 years, but my morals, passions, dislikes, and decisions. I am still in my clay phase, and I always will be because, no matter how hard I have tried, I have always been a ‘unique’ shape amongst the ordinary.

Artistic portrayal of my puberty