Full Circle

A bit of autobiographical prose I wrote in an English class I took (and failed) in Spring.




Full Circle


I remember being small. At one time, I was thin, long-limbed, and flexible. I was both frail and strong. My strength came from knowing how to maneuver around an opposing force. But if I couldn't avoid something, it would usually knock me down.


My family made light of my thinness, or perhaps it really concerned them. I remember my grandmother always trying to make me eat, and complaining that I was too picky about food. Really, I'm surprised all the hearty German home-cooking she provided didn't put any weight on me.


But I did wish to be sturdier, stronger, able to stand up to opposition and not get knocked down. My mother and grandmother are sturdy. It shouldn't surprise me that I've begun to look like them. But it's made me realize that ultimately their kind of sturdiness can be detrimental. Ailments caused by decades spent under the burden of their own strength have become more evident lately. And they've become evident in me. Eventually, I'll have come full circle. Frailty leads to strength leads to frailty. Over and over.


—Adrienne McKay 2010