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Narrative Essay: I Love My Parents

Parents are the closest people that we have in our lives, whether we realize it or not. They love us not because we are smart, beautiful, successful or we have a good sense of humour, but just because we are their children. I, too, love mom and dad simply because they are my parents, but I think I would have felt the same even if they weren’t. I love who they are as people, each with their own individual traits – and, together, forming an amazing super-team that’s made me who I am today and taught me what life is all about.

My mother is a cheerful, chatty perfectionist who seems to always find something to get excited about and who can talk for hours about animals and flowers. She is never afraid to speak her mind and she can be very convincing when she wants to. She sometimes get upset a bit too easily, but she is just as quick to forgive and forget. I love mom for all that she is – even when she’s angry – for all that she has done for me, and for all that she’s taught me. My mom has been through a lot throughout the years, but she always kept fighting.She taught me to never lose hope even in the direst of moments, and she showed me how to look for happiness in the small things. She’s been trying to teach me to be more organized as well, but hasn’t succeeded yet. I love her for that too.

My father is quiet, patient and calm, and he has an adorable hit-and-miss sense of humour. I may not always find his jokes that funny, but I love him for trying. Dad almost never gets angry and he is always polite, friendly and nice to everyone. He is not the one to verbalize emotions, but he always shows his feelings through sweet gestures and little surprizes. He is the pacifist in our family and never goes against mom’s wishes, but he runs a large company witha firm hand. I love my father for all these characteristics and for all he’s sacrificed to build a better life for us. He’s worked day and night to ensure we afford good education and have a rich, wonderful childhood, and he has passed up many great opportunities for the benefit of our family. I love dad because he’s taught me that you cannot have it all in life, but with hard work and dedication, you can have what matters most to you.

Mom and dad may be very different people, but they complement each other perfectly. Together, they formed a super-team that was always there – and, thankfully, still is – to provide comfort, nurturing, and support and help me grow as a person. Their complementary personalities bring balance in our family, and each of them steps in whenever they are needed the most. Together, they taught me to believe in myself and have turned me into a fighter. Their care and dedication towards me and each other has served as an example of what healthy relationships should be like, and I love and admire them for that.

I love my parents because they are my parents, my good friends, my heroes, my role models, my safe haven, my pillars of strength.I am who I am today thanks to them, and I know that their support and affection will play an essential role in what I will become in the future.All I can hope is that, when I have children of my own, I will be half as good a parent as they were to me.

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Have You Ever Felt Embarrassed by Your Parents?

In a winning essay for our 2019 Personal Narrative Contest, a teenager writes about a moment when she felt ashamed of her mother — and what she learned about herself from it. Have you ever had a similar experience?

narrative essay about parents

By Nicole Daniels

This special Student Opinion question features one of the winning essays from our 2019 Personal Narrative Writing Contest. You can read all of the 2019 winning essays here , and learn more about participating in this year’s contest, open now until Nov. 17, 2020, here .

Do you ever feel embarrassed by the things that your parents say or do? By the stories they tell, the terms of endearment they call you or the way they treat you in public?

Have you ever felt a deeper sort of shame about who your parents are or how they act?

What might this embarrassment or shame tell you about yourself?

In “ Nothing Extraordinary ,” a winning essay from our 2019 Personal Narrative Contest for students, Jeniffer Kim writes about a moment when she felt ashamed of her mother — and what she learned about herself from it. Her narrative begins:

It was a Saturday. Whether it was sunny or cloudy, hot or cold, I cannot remember, but I do remember it was a Saturday because the mall was packed with people. I was with my mom. Mom is short. Skinny. It is easy to overlook her in a crowd simply because she is nothing extraordinary to see. On that day we strolled down the slippery-slick tiles with soft, inconspicuous steps, peeking at window boutiques in fleeting glances because we both knew we wouldn’t be buying much, like always. I remember I was looking up at the people we passed as we walked — at first apathetically, but then more attentively. Ladies wore five-inch heels that clicked importantly on the floor and bright, elaborate clothing. Men strode by smelling of sharp cologne, faces clear of wrinkles — wiped away with expensive creams. An uneasy feeling started to settle in my chest. I tried to push it out, but once it took root it refused to be yanked up and tossed away. It got more unbearable with every second until I could deny it no longer; I was ashamed of my mother. We were in a high-class neighborhood, I knew that. We lived in a small, overpriced apartment building that hung on to the edge of our county that Mom chose to move to because she knew the schools were good. We were in a high-class neighborhood, but as I scrutinized the passers-by and then turned accusing eyes on Mom, I realized for the first time that we didn’t belong there. I could see the heavy lines around Mom’s eyes and mouth, etched deep into her skin without luxurious lotions to ease them away. She wore cheap, ragged clothes with the seams torn, shoes with the soles worn down. Her eyes were tired from working long hours to make ends meet and her hair too gray for her age. I looked at her, and I was ashamed. My mom is nothing extraordinary, yet at that moment she stood out because she was just so plain.

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If only I had listened to my parents

If I only I had listened to my parents, life would’ve been so easy for me, I regret everything I’ve done in the past. I grew up as an only child, my parents were working in Cape Town so they hired someone to take care of me.

As I was growing older without my parents’ guidance, I didn’t want the lady I was staying with to tell me what was right or wrong because in my mind I had already made a decision about my life. That my parents didn’t love me, they only came when it suited them.

I became stubborn as I was reaching 16 years old, getting more peer pressure and drinking alcohol. Having so many boyfriends and sleeping around on top of those boyfriends. I was busy telling myself I was living my life as I liked. My parents would come back just for my cases at school, home and neighbours were complaining about my behaviour.

But did I ever listen to them while they were giving me lectures? No. So here I am now pregnant, no matric, I don’t know who the father of my child is and I am regretting not listening to my parents.

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  • How to write a narrative essay | Example & tips

How to Write a Narrative Essay | Example & Tips

Published on July 24, 2020 by Jack Caulfield . Revised on July 23, 2023.

A narrative essay tells a story. In most cases, this is a story about a personal experience you had. This type of essay , along with the descriptive essay , allows you to get personal and creative, unlike most academic writing .

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Table of contents

What is a narrative essay for, choosing a topic, interactive example of a narrative essay, other interesting articles, frequently asked questions about narrative essays.

When assigned a narrative essay, you might find yourself wondering: Why does my teacher want to hear this story? Topics for narrative essays can range from the important to the trivial. Usually the point is not so much the story itself, but the way you tell it.

A narrative essay is a way of testing your ability to tell a story in a clear and interesting way. You’re expected to think about where your story begins and ends, and how to convey it with eye-catching language and a satisfying pace.

These skills are quite different from those needed for formal academic writing. For instance, in a narrative essay the use of the first person (“I”) is encouraged, as is the use of figurative language, dialogue, and suspense.

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Narrative essay assignments vary widely in the amount of direction you’re given about your topic. You may be assigned quite a specific topic or choice of topics to work with.

  • Write a story about your first day of school.
  • Write a story about your favorite holiday destination.

You may also be given prompts that leave you a much wider choice of topic.

  • Write about an experience where you learned something about yourself.
  • Write about an achievement you are proud of. What did you accomplish, and how?

In these cases, you might have to think harder to decide what story you want to tell. The best kind of story for a narrative essay is one you can use to talk about a particular theme or lesson, or that takes a surprising turn somewhere along the way.

For example, a trip where everything went according to plan makes for a less interesting story than one where something unexpected happened that you then had to respond to. Choose an experience that might surprise the reader or teach them something.

Narrative essays in college applications

When applying for college , you might be asked to write a narrative essay that expresses something about your personal qualities.

For example, this application prompt from Common App requires you to respond with a narrative essay.

In this context, choose a story that is not only interesting but also expresses the qualities the prompt is looking for—here, resilience and the ability to learn from failure—and frame the story in a way that emphasizes these qualities.

An example of a short narrative essay, responding to the prompt “Write about an experience where you learned something about yourself,” is shown below.

Hover over different parts of the text to see how the structure works.

Since elementary school, I have always favored subjects like science and math over the humanities. My instinct was always to think of these subjects as more solid and serious than classes like English. If there was no right answer, I thought, why bother? But recently I had an experience that taught me my academic interests are more flexible than I had thought: I took my first philosophy class.

Before I entered the classroom, I was skeptical. I waited outside with the other students and wondered what exactly philosophy would involve—I really had no idea. I imagined something pretty abstract: long, stilted conversations pondering the meaning of life. But what I got was something quite different.

A young man in jeans, Mr. Jones—“but you can call me Rob”—was far from the white-haired, buttoned-up old man I had half-expected. And rather than pulling us into pedantic arguments about obscure philosophical points, Rob engaged us on our level. To talk free will, we looked at our own choices. To talk ethics, we looked at dilemmas we had faced ourselves. By the end of class, I’d discovered that questions with no right answer can turn out to be the most interesting ones.

The experience has taught me to look at things a little more “philosophically”—and not just because it was a philosophy class! I learned that if I let go of my preconceptions, I can actually get a lot out of subjects I was previously dismissive of. The class taught me—in more ways than one—to look at things with an open mind.

If you want to know more about AI tools , college essays , or fallacies make sure to check out some of our other articles with explanations and examples or go directly to our tools!

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If you’re not given much guidance on what your narrative essay should be about, consider the context and scope of the assignment. What kind of story is relevant, interesting, and possible to tell within the word count?

The best kind of story for a narrative essay is one you can use to reflect on a particular theme or lesson, or that takes a surprising turn somewhere along the way.

Don’t worry too much if your topic seems unoriginal. The point of a narrative essay is how you tell the story and the point you make with it, not the subject of the story itself.

Narrative essays are usually assigned as writing exercises at high school or in university composition classes. They may also form part of a university application.

When you are prompted to tell a story about your own life or experiences, a narrative essay is usually the right response.

The key difference is that a narrative essay is designed to tell a complete story, while a descriptive essay is meant to convey an intense description of a particular place, object, or concept.

Narrative and descriptive essays both allow you to write more personally and creatively than other kinds of essays , and similar writing skills can apply to both.

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Caulfield, J. (2023, July 23). How to Write a Narrative Essay | Example & Tips. Scribbr. Retrieved August 29, 2024, from https://www.scribbr.com/academic-essay/narrative-essay/

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Jody Lamb, personal growth author

My story: Growing up with an alcoholic parent

By Jody Lamb 71 Comments

Growing up with an alcoholic parent

I was one of billions of kids who grew up with an alcoholic parent.

My mother and father were extraordinarily kind-hearted, compassionate people. But my mother, who had a traumatic childhood, was an alcoholic before I was born. I love my mother deeply. She is a wonderful person. Every day, I wish I could do something to take away the hundreds of pounds of sadness she carries every day. But the effects of her alcoholism affected my sister and me terribly.

I was born in 1982 and grew up in Dearborn, Michigan. The first 10 years or so of my life, I don’t remember my father being home very much. He worked in the evenings, mostly, and this left me with my mom as the primary parent.

My mother drank at night and into the early morning hours several times a week.

Around that same age, I remember apple juice being my favorite drink. One day, I asked my mom why her apple juice always had foam on top of it. It took a few years after that to make the connection between my mom’s dramatic mood changes and her consuming the foamy apple juice. After a while, she drank directly from beer cans. She hid these cans and bottles all over the house.

By 8 or 9 years old, I regularly went looking through the closets and cabinets and poured out the beer and returned the empty cans and bottles to their spots. I also often organized the cabinets and closets because it made me feel there was kind of order to the house, even though my mom’s behavior made everything unpredictable, chaotic and messy.

I went to a small Catholic school about a 15-minute drive away from our house. We lived too far from the busing system limits so my mom had to drive me every morning. Sometimes – quite often, actually – she wouldn’t get out of bed. I got up myself, made my own breakfast, got ready and prayed she’d get out of bed. Sometimes, I’d have to plead and beg her to get out of bed for 20 minutes. By the time I made it to school, I’d be crying. I’d make it to the school as the last bell rang or minutes too late. I felt ashamed about my tardiness and hated the attention on me as I entered the classroom after my classmates were already seated. I’d be stressed, exhausted and nauseous before the day even began. The teachers at the school had zero clue. In fact, I was probably the last student they’d suspect to be dealing with an alcoholic parent at home. I was always super well behaved and got good grades. In the fifth grade, my teacher said, “Jody, you are so lucky to have a perfect mother.”

My mother was a good mother…when she wasn’t drinking.

I knew my mother’s behavior due to drinking wasn’t good. I knew her health was at risk and I knew the way she screamed at me and my dad and stumbled around wasn’t good. But like most kids of alcoholics, I was used to it and as a mini adult, I was really good at hiding any evidence of trouble at home. I saw my cousins often but besides that, we lived a very isolated life. When family and people at school saw us, everything seemed fine. My mother and father’s family knew she drank but I don’t think they really had any idea that it kept me up at night, that I was neglected in so many ways, that I went to school without enough sleep and that I was constantly – and I mean constantly – worried. I worried her cigarettes would burn the house down because she dropped burning cigarettes on the couch, the car, everywhere and she left stuff cooking on the stove and passed out and didn’t even wake up to the smoke detectors going off. Worse, I was perpetually confused by my mother’s behavior. One minute she was showering me with compliments, the next minute she was screaming, swearing and throwing things at me. I felt I couldn’t do anything right and that I was never good enough. Now, I knew my mother loved me but on some level, I felt I caused her drinking.

In every way, it was the family secret. To some degree, I don’t think my dad even knew in those early years, how much my mother’s drinking affected me but we had conversations about it. He called it a Jekyll and Hyde situation. If you met my mother, you’d only see an extremely sweet and kind person. This is the person she truly is. However, when she drinks, she becomes an entirely different person – completely unrecognizable. She transforms into a loud, angry, aggressive, violent, abusive and destructive person. My mother would scream at the top of her lungs about ridiculous things or things that had nothing to do with me or my dad. She’d throw things across the room. She’d hit my father. She’d take off for hours or a day. I’d fear she was dead. She’d drive drunk. I’d fear that she’d kill someone. And most memorable, she’d say the cruelest, hurtful things. As a young person, it was impossible to separate those mean words from the kind words she spoke when sober. The hurtful words were far more impactful. She doesn’t mean what she says when she’s drunk, my dad would explain. But that didn’t matter. The words echoed in my mind and scarred me.

Usually, my mom woke up the next day, all sweet acting, as if nothing happened. Sometimes it was easier to pretend the drunken behavior didn’t happen. Other times, I was so hurt and angry such as when she’d disappear for hours, I couldn’t even speak to her. Many times, she didn’t even remember what happened and definitely didn’t remember the things she said. Average days were nightmares. I also have horrible memories of ruined holidays and family weddings. I have zero good birthday memories.

But I was really, really good at covering up the messes – figuratively and literally. I tried to be a perfect kid. On some level, I think I thought my mom drank because of me and maybe if I could just be better, she wouldn’t have any reason to drink. Or, that if she really loved me, that would be enough to make her stop drinking. Through tears, I begged and pleaded that she stop drinking. She probably promised that she’d never drink again about 1,000 times throughout my childhood. I also wrote lengthy, heartfelt letters and slipped them under her bedroom door. She’d throw them away without a response.

I was sure that I could “fix” her if only I tried a little harder.

But she didn’t get better. She got worse. My late father, wonderful man he was, was totally trapped by codependency and paralyzed with fear that Mom would die if they divorced or some other action was taken. In fact, he told this to my sister and me on several occasions. He just always acted like it would get better on its own. He didn’t see clearly that my mother’s alcoholism was destroying all of our lives and that allowing life to go on the way it was actually enabling my mother’s alcoholism to go on and worsen. My dear father was a talented athlete and coach who had a positive impact on thousands of lives throughout his life. But he was made ill by alcoholism in our house. He simply tried to be the best dad and husband he knew how to be. But not a day goes by that I don’t wish he would have gone to Al-Anon meetings, gotten educated about what the hell was going on with his wife and taken action that would have pushed Mom to hit rock bottom and perhaps then, at the prospect of losing her life, finally get help. Maybe my father would be alive today if he had.

It was a lonely childhood. I always wanted brothers and sisters. My mom had a few miscarriages. Every time she lost a baby, I cried.  I wanted a sibling to experience life with; I may have hoped another child would give Mom purpose and happiness in the way I could not.

I was 14 when my sister, Brooke, was born.

Though I was a bit old to care about having a sibling at that point, I felt blessed to have her in my life. Complications during delivery almost killed Mom and Brooke.

I was the first person to hold Brooke, which I always think completely foreshadowed my role in her life.

Uh, hold the comments on 14-year-old me’s style…

My sister’s arrival did not snap Mom out of her drinking problem, though she drank less in my sister’s toddler years than she had before the pregnancy. Still, I could never have friends over to visit at the house. I have horrible memories from high school when friends dropped by unannounced and my mother’s drunken, aggressive and abusive behavior humiliated me. Another dominant memory is when I invited my first serious boyfriend over to the house and begged my mom not to drink and she promised that she wouldn’t. Of course, she got drunk and the evening ended with me humiliated and fighting back tears and a very uncomfortable boyfriend who departed early.

In those teen years, I was completely obsessed with my mom’s drinking.

Every day, I searched the house for her hidden bottles and cans and poured them out – which of course, only completely perpetuated the problem because she just then went out to the store and bought replacement supplies. I could determine, with spot-on accuracy, how many beers she’d consumed just by looking at her face or hearing her speak one or words. I could also predict if she planned on drinking that night or not. If she had supplies, she’d act happy, even giddy, that day. I’d get instantly sick to my stomach. If she couldn’t drink for some reason, she’d be terribly irritable – snapping at me over trivial matters, even becoming as evil tongued as she did while drunk.

During those teen years, I grew closer with my father. He was super supportive and encouraging about my cross-country and track running and involvement in school extracurricular activities. I began to understand him better. In the process, I began to resent my mother for what I perceived as a conscious decision not to get better. I believed she didn’t care enough about her family to get help. I was angry at her but I went off to college with a pit in my stomach. I worried about the well-being of my sister, though my dad assured me things would be OK and insisted that I would regret not focusing on myself for once.

After years of being the perfect, rule-following kid, I went a bit wild and did the common party thing in college. I liked the way alcohol erased my insecurities. By my second year, I recognized my relationship with alcohol was mirroring that of my mom and alcohol. I started feeling like I needed to drink in order to go to social events where I didn’t know many people. I felt I wasn’t drinking socially anymore; I was totally emotionally dependent on alcohol for a sense of confidence. I felt I was standing atop a very slippery slope. After that year, I stopped drinking heavily and focused my efforts on my education and building a foundation for a career.

That’s when I discovered that things were not good for my sister. My dad was working at night a lot again. My sister was being neglected by our mother and endangered. Mom would lock herself in her room for two days, leaving Brooke to care for herself. I spent my senior year of college basically commuting back and forth from class and work to home. My sister needed me. That year, I even sometimes brought Brooke to stay for the weekend at my college apartment. When a Big 10 college apartment is safer for a seven-year-old girl than her home, the home is an extreme problem. My father’s family urged my father to take action to get me and my sister out of the situation. He recognized the worsening problems but he was so trapped by a mix of denial, codependency and laidback, everything-will-work-out personality that prevented him from believing he had the ability to make things better. He really believed that Mom was a hopeless cause and that if he left her, she’d die.

At 26, I was exhausted and depressed – like I didn’t want to go on anymore yet I felt I had to. There were so many people depending on me. That’s when I finally got educated about alcoholism and addiction and its impact on kids and families. I better understood my mother and her disease. I let go of a lot of expectations. I learned about the effects of growing up as a child of an alcoholic. I discovered that many things I felt – extreme anxiety, low self-confidence, problems trusting people, lack of satisfaction with anything – were directly tied to the destruction my mom’s alcoholism caused. I began taking better care of myself. I went to Al-Anon meetings . I met other adult children of alcoholics. I began reading and writing more often, as I’d done as a child. This prompted me to write a middle-grade novel for tweens that was published in 2012.

Because I was focused on taking better care of me, this helped the whole family.

Then in 2014, Dad died from a heart attack.

My first thought was: My dad is gone. My second thought: Oh my God, now I am 100% responsible for Mom.

My sister was 17 and ending her junior year of high school.

So I did what most first-born children of alcoholics would do: I assumed my dad’s role. I moved out of my place and back into my parents’ home. I promptly forgot everything I’d learned about co-dependency and self-care.

My mother, overwhelmed with intense grief, plummeted. Every day, for months, I feared I’d come home and find her lifeless body. Once again, I became obsessed with her drinking. She binged for days on end. Again, I was determined to “fix” her. At one point, I convinced her to see a psychologist and I sure it the turning point – the road to recovery. It wasn’t.

After three months of sleepless nights, my sister said she couldn’t bear to stay there and watch Mom slowly kill herself so we moved out. I sobbed the day we moved. It felt like I was abandoning a sick child.

But then as the weeks passed, I get healthier. My sister got healthier. Our minds cleared as time passed being away from the chaos and the abuse. I detached, slowly.

My departure from the environment and my father’s death forced Mom to be more of an adult than she ever had in her life. While her alcoholism is still destructive, my sister and I are much better today.

Update – July 2022: 

  • Mom is doing better than I ever could have imagined!
  • Brooke is a happy, healthy person and we’re very close.
  • Life is great for me! I’m engaged to an extraordinary guy who makes me laugh and laughs at all my jokes.

I believe sharing these personal stories is tremendously powerful. If you are an ACoA (adult child of an alcoholic) or grew up in a dysfunctional/abusive situation, I hope you’re well on your healing journey, too. Glad you’re here.

Take good care of yourself.

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Reader Interactions

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December 15, 2020 at 4:17 pm

I love you so much.

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April 15, 2021 at 8:34 pm

As a heavy drinker (1.5 bottle a day on average, down from 3 bottles five years ago) here some piece of advise from “the other side”, mostly for alcoholics.

1. It is not necessarily hopeless. First thing, the alcoholic must recognize he has a problem. I did, everyone knows me as an alcoholic, but I hope to stop for good.

2. Don’t lie to your wife or kids. I never did. I drink in the main room in my home so everyone knows when I drink, and how much. No hidden bottles either. It used to be every day, now it is every other day on average. Yet recently my wife told me to drink “secretly”, with no one seeing me drinking. I am complying most of the time, and it is not increasing my consumption. I still want to stop.

3. My wife regrets the time I was drinking every day because it was more predictable for her. Now I can go four days with no drink, but it makes her sad because she sees more the good side of me being sober and has more home. But the moment I resume, her hopes vanishes. Before she did not have any hope. Nevertheless I know 10 bottles a week is better than 20, and I can not go back to the worse times.

4. Find a few restaurants where you use to drink, and go there and don’t drink. That way, when you are ready to stop for good, you can go to these places without having a trigger. Otherwise, you can’t go anymore to any restaurant once sober for good, which could make you angry when recovered. Prepare yourself little by little for the day you will stop for good. It’s about changing bad habits, one at a time.

5. I thought some days I needed a bottle to be OK to get rid of the shakes. I discovered it was not wine but food I needed. Sure wine would cure the shakes, but so did eating food. Try and see if this trick works for you.

Good luck! Relapses are expected and not a failure as long as you see the light at the end of the tunnel. Think about seeing your grandchildren when they will be born. Stop drinking to make that happen before it is too late.

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April 19, 2021 at 9:07 pm

Thank you for sharing your perspective. Best wishes to you and your family. It sounds like you are determined to create a system to stop for good and are on your way to making that happen. Wishing you hope and great success.

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May 2, 2021 at 4:56 am

Thank you for this. I’m 32 and had my son when I was 15. I grew up in a dysfunctional home where my mum was addicted to crack and alcohol. She is no longer in the crack but she is still drinking everyday (unless she hasn’t got any money). I can relate to so much of what you said, especially knowing how many drinks she’s had even over the phone. I really appreciate you sharing your testimony. Yesterday I had to block my mums calls again as she became abusive because I wouldn’t go and see her with my son. I can hardly stand to be around her when she’s drunk. But she’s blaming me for the fact she doesn’t see me or her grandchild. It feels so terrible and brings me back to being a child again.

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May 6, 2021 at 3:20 pm

Thank you for publishing your journey, my own father has issues with alcoholism and a lot of what you have written is very recognisable to me. It’s nice to know I was not alone with my feelings.

We can’t fix everybody only try and look after ourselves.

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May 6, 2021 at 3:52 pm

Telling your story is courageous! I am so proud of you . I, too am an adult child, although much older than you. Growing up with “alcoholism” leaves many scars, but with the help of people like yourself , ACOA groups, Alanon and written information about the effects of Alcoholism , many lives can be changed and even saved. Many blessings to you and your sister. Nathalie

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July 5, 2021 at 9:25 am

I read all of your story and it resonated with me. I grew up with an alcoholic mother too. It was a terribly sad upbringing and it still affects me to this day (I am 42). My mum and dad split up when i was 14 and mum found a new boyfriend who was was an alcoholic also and used to beat her up. So many ruined birthdays and chirstmas’s throughout all of my childhood. Eventually she moved to Spain and tried to murder her boyfriend in a drunken arguement. I had to fly out there and go to a Spanish prison, negotiate the Spanish law system, get a lawyer etc. She got two years in the end. Eventually she died at aged 63. What a waste. My father was pretty useless as well and is very cold emotionally. Luckily i found a wonderful woman whom I have been married to for 16 years and have a wonderful son so I am out of that life now but it has left deep scars. My sister has become a cocaine addict as well and I dont contact her anymore as she lies and steals. The only advice I can give anyone is to get away from it as soon as you can. You cannot help an alcoholic and they will drag you down with them. I speak from experience.

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November 7, 2021 at 11:55 am

Jody, thank you for sharing your story, something just like this is happening now, and I’d love to get your advice if willing. My Sister-in-law, displays many of the traits here – always has a full glass of wine at night, rarely leaves the house, wakes up at noon, regularly not getting the kids to appointments. My niece and nephew are 9yo (boy) and 10yo (girl), and live a very isolated life and don’t have many friends. My niece’s 10 year birthday was only family and no friends from school. My brother works all the time, but his life outside work is his children… so he does make up for a lot of misses of my sister-in-law (but demands on him are higher than i’ve ever seen in someone)

I’ve tried to help, for about a year going over there every night to help with kids, but I also noticed her drinking got worse… like i was there helping, so she could take less responsibilities and drink more… and for that year I was thinking – just keep blinders on, Robert, keep a good relationship with her so you can keep coming over… I kept telling myself these are the crucial development years for them and you’ve got to be like water and work with the constraints we have.

My sister in law is honestly one of the most fun people to be around – she’s so funny, and off the cuff with responses, and engaging in conversation. Which makes it easier for her to mask these things to our family or at any social events she goes to. She rarely goes to a day function. It’s always night functions, and she’ll spend the whole day relaxing stress free waking up at noon, getting her hair done, getting to looking immaculate, and then when she shows up at the social event, it even makes me questions whether i’m right in my assumptions of her – she looks beautiful, healthy, she’s engaging with everyone, she’s laughing, she’s not too dunk, she’s self depreciating, focusing on the children in those little ways, etc. But after a while, you start to see the routine.

And overtime i’ve built resentment towards her, and it’s not healthy and that’s my own issue I have to work through… But i have made a decision to address the issue with my brother (although i haven’t yet and i’m getting as educated as much as I can).

I know their is most definitely an element of codependency with my brother and sister-in-law… and his worry for her, but also likely his worry for doing anything that might rock the boat and make things even more unpredictable than they are currently.

So, my question to you is… if you’d had an uncle like me, when you were growing up, who saw and understood what was happening – what would your older wiser self encourage/plead him to do? Because eventually this will be the situation my niece and nephew will be in… 30 years from now…asking me, “if you knew, Robert, why didn’t you xyz?”

Should I be hammering my brother to go to A-A events and get more information? What sort of urgency should I be acting with? they are 9 and 10 years old. Are there other people in the family I should be including in my knowledge of all this? What if my brother says it will work itself out or it’s just the way she is and I’ve found ways around it (brushes it off like your father)? Should it be my responsibility to escalate, etc? For starters, I want the best shot of getting my brother’s buy in. Also, if you have someone in your network that you think I should reach out to… please advise, I’m happy to pay someone a consultation fee, etc. I’ll continue to get more information and seek out resources, but any thoughts you might share would be greatly appreciated.

November 7, 2021 at 12:01 pm

Jody, I noticed the books you recommended in one of your comments. I’m going to start with one of those. Thanks and please let me know if you do have some other specific thoughts on my previous comment.

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February 8, 2022 at 3:14 am

Omg I thought I was reading my own life story. Everything you wrote I have gone threw . I have ywo younger siblings that I took care of because are mom was always drunk..I was 14 when my dad died . My sister was 10 and my grother was 7yr old. When he passed it made it worst on all of us.so every word you care saying I have lived it.

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September 17, 2022 at 7:17 am

You’re story is my story except I was the youngest in the family so I was mostly neglected and forgotten. My mother was the alcoholic and dad the enabler just like in your family. Fighting was constant. As soon as I could get out of that house I did and right into a marriage with an addicted man. It took me 12 years to realize I had a problem as an enabler. Today I have a new husband and a different life but the scars of all those years past still are with me. I have tons of anxiety issues. I see a therapist. I am trying to find out who I am after a lifetime of being a shell of a person. Thank you for your story. It helped me realize my story could be anyones story.

September 20, 2022 at 12:38 pm

Best wishes to you on your journey, Nicole. Some people never attempt to find healing; you’re well on your way!

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August 21, 2023 at 2:49 pm

Thank you for sharing your deeply personal and powerful journey of growing up with an alcoholic parent. Your story reflects resilience, strength, and the transformative power of healing. Your courage in sharing this can provide solace and encouragement to others who have faced similar challenges.

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November 20, 2023 at 9:14 am

Thank you for sharing your story. I relate to almost everything you wrote although the roles were reversed. The alcoholic dad and the co-dependent mother. I am 63 and still reeling in the pain of it all. I have gone through one failed marriage and my second marriage is on the verge of breaking apart. I am learning now of the impact of being an adult child of an alcoholic. It’s never too late, right? I am in search of the hope, joy and peace that can be achieved by facing these childhood nightmares. I am so thankful that the Lord led me to your website. I am thankful to have found this community. Peace to you all.

November 26, 2023 at 1:04 pm

It is definitely always the right time to heal, no matter your age. Best wishes to you on your healing journey!

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December 5, 2023 at 2:52 am

Thank you. I feel inspired.

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Oct 19, 2018

narrative essay about parents

Essay on A Day I Realized My Parents were Right For School Students

narrative essay about parents

I owe my existence to my parents. When I was an infant, I can’t walk even stand with the help of my legs. I was totally dependent on my parents.

As I grew up, a dependency on my parents decreased. Things suddenly began to change on my becoming a teenager. I was attracted by the external world, outside of my family. My parents got me admitted into school. The first day of my school is filled with flashbacks as I see myself crying and crying because I was not ready to leave my parents for a single moment. Everything was new to me-new faces, new surroundings. And reaching my adolescent period I became revolting and didn’t like to stay at home. I felt my parents old-fashioned in their thoughts. When I was a child, I used to share everything with my parents. In return, they appreciated me, but now they couldn’t accept or realize me as I was beyond their comprehension.

Essay on A Day I Realized My Parents were Right

My teenage mind has always seen them trying to impose me their opinion on me which I found unacceptable. I live in my own bubble world brimming with good friend circles, social media, games and many more distracting things. In the midst of this, I am a good student and player also. Unfortunately, this aroused the jealousy of many of my friends. My parents tried hard to warn me about them and to avoid them as much as possible. But then I was too headstrong to pay heed to their warnings. One day I saw some of my friends smoking, and they also offered me to join with them, but I was not interested. Again, one day they forced me to take it, but to no avail. One day I went to a picnic with my all friends and I discovered many of my special friends were smoking! Those special friends whose friendship I used to value the most so much that I could have sacrificed my life for their sake, approached me with just a littered cigarette and forced me to take. I tried to stop them with my heart and soul but they reached their extreme level. They threatened of breaking their friendship with me if I did not take this piece of slow poison. Cigarette became the condition of friendship so to save my addiction to the friendship I succumbed to another addiction. But I enjoyed also the first experience of smoking. Everything was going well. Only the fear of my secret getting unraveled before my parents kept on lurking in my head. After some years of continuous smoking, I felt certain unnatural changes within me. My mind always remained disturbed. I craved for smoking more than anything else. After some tests, doctors detected that I became a drug addict. On that they I came to know that my friends supplied me drugs through the cigarette. The unconditional love and support of my parents gave me a new life again. Now I fathom they were right that I should avoid such type of friends. I have a deep remorse for this incident, but at the same time, I am grateful to my parents for helping me to recover from that crisis.

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narrative essay about parents

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44 Student Narrative Essay Examples

The pot calling the kettle black….

“You aren’t acting normal,” my dad said with a dopy, concerned look on his face. He was a hard-working, soft and loving man. He was smaller than my mother, physically and figuratively. She sat beside him. She had a towering stature, with strong, swimmers’ shoulders, but she was hunched often. She didn’t really have eyebrows, but she didn’t need them. She had no problem conveying emotion on her face, especially negative ones.

“What’s wrong?” my mother asked. She took my hand frantically. Not the way one might take someone’s hand to connect with or comfort them. She needed reassurance more than I did.

My parents were sitting across from me on cushioned, bland-colored chairs in my dad’s office, while I sat on a rickety, torturous wooden chair. My dad’s office generally utilized natural light due to the expansive glass windows that allowed the light to drown the room, enclosing us in the chamber. I felt like an inmate being prepped for lethal injection. The weather was particularly gray and dismal. Perhaps it was the ambiguous, gray, confusing feelings I was breathing through. My parents had somewhat regular “interventions” to address my somewhat regular (sometimes public) emotional breakdowns, my self-medicating habits, and my general shitty attitude.

This week in particular, I had purposely destroyed two of my mother’s collectible horses. She had a maniacal obsession for them. She also maniacally collected sunflower artwork, which was the one obsession, of many, I found endearing. My old babysitter noted at one point there were 74 collectible horses in the house. After my outburst, there were 72.

I could see behind my parents, through the glass-paned door, my two younger sisters were secretly observing the altercation from the dining room, hiding under the table. They were illuminated by the ominous weather, which was also watching in on the dismal conversation through the windows. I was envious, jealous even, of my spectating sisters. My sisters didn’t have overflowing, excessive emotions. They didn’t have emotions that were considered “excessive.” I felt like an offender being put at the stocks: my parents were the executioners, and my sisters were the jesters.

“I’m angry.”

“What about?” my dad asked, puzzled. “Did someone do something to you?”

“Honey, were you—” my mother looked to my dad, then concealed her mouth slightly with the other hand, “ raped ?”

I couldn’t help but raise my voice. “No, Mom, I wasn’t raped, Jesus.” I took a moment to grind on my teeth and imagine the bit I was chomping at. Calm, careful, composed, I responded. “I’m just angry. I don’t feel—”

“What don’t you feel?” She practically jumped on me, while yanking my imprisoned hand toward her. She yanked at my reins.

“I don’t feel understood!” My mind was bucking. I didn’t know why I needed to react by raising my voice. It felt instinctive, defensive. Shouting forcefully, I jerked my hand away from her, but it remained in her clutches. I didn’t feel satisfied saying it, though what I said was the truth.

“What are you talking about?” my dad asked mournfully. I knew he felt betrayed. But he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it’s like for things to be too much. Or to be too much. My dad looked at me longingly, hoping I would correct what I had said. He looked lost, incapable of understanding why I was doing what I was doing. My mother interjected, cutting off my dad’s hypnotic, silent cry for connection.

“You’re crazy!” she said, maintaining eye contact. My mother then let go of my hand, flipped it back to me. She reclined in her chair, retracting from me and the discussion entirely. She crossed her legs, then her arms. She turned her head away, toward the glass windows, and (mentally) left.

I was and am not “too much.”

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old.

I had just stepped off a squealing MAX line onto a broken sidewalk slab, gnarled from tree roots, when I felt my phone buzz rhythmically.

“I need you to come to the hospital. Mom had a little accident.” My dad’s voice was distant and cracking, like a wavering radio signal, calling for help.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” I asked while making my way to campus.

“Where are you?” He wasn’t going to tell me anything over the phone. Adrenaline set in. I let him know I was downtown and headed to campus, but that I would catch a Lyft to wherever they were. “We’re at Milwaukie Providence. How soon can you get here?

“I’ll let you know soon.” My assumption was that my parents had been in an argument, my mother left the house in a rage, and crashed her car. She’d been an erratic driver for as long as I could remember, and my parents had been arguing more than usual recently, as many new “empty-nesters” do. The lack of information provided by my dad, however, was unsettling. I don’t really recall the ride to the hospital. I do remember looking over the river while riding from the west to east side of town. I remember the menacing, dark clouds rolling in faster than the driver could transport me. I remember it was quick, but it was too much time spent without answers.

When I arrived at Providence, I jumped out of the sedan and galloped into the lobby of the emergency room like a race horse on its final lap. My younger sister and Dad were seated on cushioned, bland-colored chairs in the waiting room. There were expansive glass windows that allowed the light to drown the room. The weather was particularly gray and dismal. Perhaps it was the ambiguous, gray, confusing feelings I was breathing through. I sat down beside my dad, in a firmer-than-anticipated waiting room chair beside him. He took my hand frantically. He took it in the way one might take someone’s hand to connect with or comfort them. He needed reassurance more than I did.

“Where did she get in the accident?” I asked.

My sister, sitting across from me with her head in her knees, looked up at me with aquamarine, tear-filled eyes. She was staring through me, an unclouded window. “Mom tried to kill herself.”

“What?” My voice crescendoed from a normal volume to a shriek in the span of a single word. My mind felt like it was bucking. I grabbed at my hair, pulling it back tight with my spare hand. The tears and cries reared, no matter how hard I yanked my mane.

“We got in another argument this morning, and she sent me a message saying she didn’t want to be in pain anymore. She told me to tell you girls she’s sorry. I’m so sorry.” I’d never seen my dad cry before; I didn’t know he could. I didn’t know his tears would stream like gushing water from a broken dam. He looked lost, incapable of understanding why she was doing what she was doing. I looked from my dad to my sister to my hands. One hand remained enveloped by my dad’s gentle palm. At this point in life, I had not yet learned to be gentle with myself, or others. I cut off my dad’s hypnotic, silent cry for connection.

“She’s crazy!” I let go of my dad’s hand, flipped it back to him. I reclined in the

chair, retracting from the situation entirely. I crossed my legs, then my arms. I turned my head away, toward the glass windows, and (mentally) left.

“Crazy” is a term devised to dismiss people.

My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 50 years old.

Teacher Takeaways

“This essay makes excellent use of repetition as a narrative strategy. Throughout the essay, terms and phrases are repeated, generally with slight alterations, drawing the reader’s attention to the moment in question and recontextualizing the information being conveyed. This strategy is especially powerful when used to disclose the separate diagnoses of bipolar disorder, which is central to the narrative. I also appreciate the use of dialogue, though it mostly serves an expository function here. In itself that’s effective, but this narrative would be strengthened if that dialogue could serve to make some of the characters, especially the mother, more rounded.”

– Professor Dunham

My College Education

The following essay, “My College Education” is from Chapter 15.2 – Narrative Essay , Writing for Success , University of Minnesota Libraries.

The first class I went to in college was philosophy, and it changed my life forever. Our first assignment was to write a short response paper to the Albert Camus essay “The Myth of Sisyphus.” I was extremely nervous about the assignment as well as college. However, through all the confusion in philosophy class, many of my questions about life were answered.

I entered college intending to earn a degree in engineering. I always liked the way mathematics had right and wrong answers. I understood the logic and was very good at it. So when I received my first philosophy assignment that asked me to write my interpretation of the Camus essay, I was instantly confused. What is the right way to do this assignment, I wondered? I was nervous about writing an incorrect interpretation and did not want to get my first assignment wrong. Even more troubling was that the professor refused to give us any guidelines on what he was looking for; he gave us total freedom. He simply said, “I want to see what you come up with.”

Full of anxiety, I first set out to read Camus’s essay several times to make sure I really knew what was it was about. I did my best to take careful notes. Yet even after I took all these notes and knew the essay inside and out, I still did not know the right answer. What was my interpretation? I could think of a million different ways to interpret the essay, but which one was my professor looking for? In math class, I was used to examples and explanations of solutions. This assignment gave me nothing; I was completely on my own to come up with my individual interpretation.

Next, when I sat down to write, the words just did not come to me. My notes and ideas were all present, but the words were lost. I decided to try every prewriting strategy I could find. I brainstormed, made idea maps, and even wrote an outline. Eventually, after a lot of stress, my ideas became more organized and the words fell on the page. I had my interpretation of “The Myth of Sisyphus,” and I had my main reasons for interpreting the essay. I remember being unsure of myself, wondering if what I was saying made sense, or if I was even on the right track. Through all the uncertainty, I continued writing the best I could. I finished the conclusion paragraph, had my spouse proofread it for errors, and turned it in the next day simply hoping for the best.

Then, a week or two later, came judgment day. The professor gave our papers back to us with grades and comments. I remember feeling simultaneously afraid and eager to get the paper back in my hands. It turned out, however, that I had nothing to worry about. The professor gave me an A on the paper, and his notes suggested that I wrote an effective essay overall. He wrote that my reading of the essay was very original and that my thoughts were well organized. My relief and newfound confidence upon reading his comments could not be overstated.

What I learned through this process extended well beyond how to write a college paper. I learned to be open to new challenges. I never expected to enjoy a philosophy class and always expected to be a math and science person. This class and assignment, however, gave me the self-confidence, critical-thinking skills, and courage to try a new career path. I left engineering and went on to study law and eventually became a lawyer. More important, that class and paper helped me understand education differently. Instead of seeing college as a direct stepping stone to a career, I learned to see college as a place to first learn and then seek a career or enhance an existing career. By giving me the space to express my own interpretation and to argue for my own values, my philosophy class taught me the importance of education for education’s sake. That realization continues to pay dividends every day.

Model Student Essay

Innocence again.

Imagine the sensation of the one split second that you are floating through the air as you were thrown up in the air as a child, that feeling of freedom and carefree spirit as happiness abounds. Looking at the world through innocent eyes, all thoughts and feelings of amazement. Being free, happy, innocent, amazed, wowed. Imagine the first time seeing the colors when your eyes and brain start to recognize them but never being able to name the shade or hue. Looking at the sky as it changes from the blackness with twinkling stars to the lightest shade of blue that is almost white, then the deep red of the sunset and bright orange of the sun. All shades of the spectrum of the rainbow, colors as beautiful as the mind can see or imagine.

I have always loved the sea since I was young; the smell of saltiness in the air invigorates me and reminds me of the times spent with my family enjoying Sundays at the beach. In Singapore, the sea was always murky and green but I continued to enjoy all activities in it. When I went to Malaysia to work, I discovered that the sea was clear and blue and without hesitation, I signed up for a basic diving course and I was hooked. In my first year of diving, I explored all the dive destinations along the east coast of Malaysia and also took an advanced diving course which allowed me to dive up to a depth of thirty meters. Traveling to a dive site took no more than four hours by car and weekends were spent just enjoying the sea again.

Gearing up is no fun. Depending on the temperature of the water, I might put on a shortie, wetsuit or drysuit. Then on come the booties, fins and mask which can be considered the easiest part unless the suit is tight—then it is a hop and pull struggle, which reminds me of how life can be at times. Carrying the steel tank, regulator, buoyancy control device (BCD) and weights is a torture. The heaviest weights that I ever had to use were 110 pounds, equivalent to my body weight; but as I jump in and start sinking into the sea, the contrast to weightlessness hits me. The moment that I start floating in the water, a sense of immense freedom and joy overtakes me.

Growing up, we have to learn the basics: time spent in classes to learn, constantly practicing to improve our skills while safety is ingrained by our parents. In dive classes, I was taught to never panic or do stupid stuff: the same with the lessons that I have learned in life. Panic and over-inflated egos can lead to death, and I have heard it happens all the time. I had the opportunity to go to Antarctica for a diving expedition, but what led to me getting that slot was the death of a very experienced diver who used a drysuit in a tropic climate against all advice. He just overheated and died. Lessons learned in the sea can be very profound, but they contrast the life I live: risk-taker versus risk-avoider. However, when I have perfected it and it is time to be unleashed, it is time to enjoy. I jump in as I would jump into any opportunity, but this time it is into the deep blue sea of wonders.

A sea of wonders waits to be explored. Every journey is different: it can be fast or slow, like how life takes me. The sea decides how it wants to carry me; drifting fast with the currents so that at times, I hang on to the reef and corals like my life depends on it, even though I am taught never to touch anything underwater. The fear I feel when I am speeding along with the current is that I will be swept away into the big ocean, never to be found. Sometimes, I feel like I am not moving at all, kicking away madly until I hyperventilate because the sea is against me with its strong current holding me against my will.

The sea decides what it wants me to see: turtles popping out of the seabed, manta rays gracefully floating alongside, being in the middle of the eye of a barracuda hurricane, a coral shelf as big as a car, a desert of bleached corals, the emptiness of the seabed with not a fish in sight, the memorials of death caused by the December 26 tsunami—a barren sea floor with not a soul or life in sight.

The sea decides what treasures I can discover: a black-tipped shark sleeping in an underwater cavern, a pike hiding from predators in the reef, an octopus under a dead tree trunk that escapes into my buddy’s BCD, colorful mandarin fish mating at sunset, a deadly box jellyfish held in my gloved hands, pygmy seahorses in a fern—so tiny that to discover them is a journey itself.

Looking back, diving has taught me more about life, the ups and downs, the good and bad, and to accept and deal with life’s challenges. Everything I learn and discover underwater applies to the many different aspects of my life. It has also taught me that life is very short: I have to live in the moment or I will miss the opportunities that come my way. I allow myself to forget all my sorrow, despair and disappointments when I dive into the deep blue sea and savor the feelings of peacefulness and calmness. There is nothing around me but fish and corals, big and small. Floating along in silence with only the sound of my breath— inhale and exhale . An array of colors explodes in front of my eyes, colors that I never imagine I will discover again, an underwater rainbow as beautiful as the rainbow in the sky after a storm. As far as my eyes can see, I look into the depth of the ocean with nothing to anchor me. The deeper I get, the darker it turns. From the light blue sky to the deep navy blue, even blackness into the void. As the horizon darkens, the feeding frenzy of the underwater world starts and the watery landscape comes alive. Total darkness surrounds me but the sounds that I can hear are the little clicks in addition to my breathing. My senses overload as I cannot see what is around me, but the sea tells me it is alive and it anchors me to the depth of my soul.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: “The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood.” … In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man in spite of real sorrows….” The sea and diving have given me a new outlook on life, a different planet where I can float into and enjoy as an adult, a new, different perspective on how it is to be that child again. Time and time again as I enter into the sea, I feel innocent all over again.

Write What Matters Copyright © 2020 by Liza Long; Amy Minervini; and Joel Gladd is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License , except where otherwise noted.

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Narrative Essay

Narrative Essay Examples

Caleb S.

10+ Interesting Narrative Essay Examples Plus Writing Tips!

Narrative Essay Examples

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Narrative Essay - A Complete Writing Guide with Examples

Writing a Personal Narrative Essay: Everything You Need to Know

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Crafting a Winning Narrative Essay Outline: A Step-by-Step Guide

Many students struggle with crafting engaging and impactful narrative essays. They often find it challenging to weave their personal experiences into coherent and compelling stories.

If you’re having a hard time, don't worry! 

We’ve compiled a range of narrative essay examples that will serve as helpful tools for you to get started. These examples will provide a clear path for crafting engaging and powerful narrative essays.

So, keep reading and find our expertly written examples!

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  • 1. Narrative Essay Definition
  • 2. Narrative Essay Examples
  • 3. Narrative Essay Examples for Students
  • 4. Narrative Essay Topics
  • 5. Narrative Essay Writing Tips

Narrative Essay Definition

Writing a narrative essay is a unique form of storytelling that revolves around personal experiences, aiming to immerse the reader in the author's world. It's a piece of writing that delves into the depths of thoughts and feelings. 

In a narrative essay, life experiences take center stage, serving as the main substance of the story. It's a powerful tool for writers to convey a personal journey, turning experiences into a captivating tale. This form of storytelling is an artful display of emotions intended to engage readers, leaving the reader feeling like they are a part of the story.

By focusing on a specific theme, event, emotions, and reflections, a narrative essay weaves a storyline that leads the reader through the author's experiences. 

The Essentials of Narrative Essays

Let's start with the basics. The four types of essays are argumentative essays , descriptive essays , expository essays , and narrative essays.

The goal of a narrative essay is to tell a compelling tale from one person's perspective. A narrative essay uses all components you’d find in a typical story, such as a beginning, middle, and conclusion, as well as plot, characters, setting, and climax.

The narrative essay's goal is the plot, which should be detailed enough to reach a climax. Here's how it works:

  • It's usually presented in chronological order.
  • It has a function. This is typically evident in the thesis statement's opening paragraph.
  • It may include speech.
  • It's told with sensory details and vivid language, drawing the reader in. All of these elements are connected to the writer's major argument in some way.

Before writing your essay, make sure you go through a sufficient number of narrative essay examples. These examples will help you in knowing the dos and don’ts of a good narrative essay.

It is always a better option to have some sense of direction before you start anything. Below, you can find important details and a bunch of narrative essay examples. These examples will also help you build your content according to the format. 

Here is a how to start a narrative essay example:


Sample Narrative Essay

The examples inform the readers about the writing style and structure of the narration. The essay below will help you understand how to create a story and build this type of essay in no time.


Here is another narrative essay examples 500 words:


Narrative Essay Examples for Students

Narrative essays offer students a platform to express their experiences and creativity. These examples show how to effectively structure and present personal stories for education.

Here are some helpful narrative essay examples:

Narrative Essay Examples Middle School

Narrative Essay Examples for Grade 7

Narrative Essay Examples for Grade 8

Grade 11 Narrative Essay Examples

Narrative Essay Example For High School

Narrative Essay Example For College

Personal Narrative Essay Example

Descriptive Narrative Essay Example

3rd Person Narrative Essay Example

Narrative Essay Topics

Here are some narrative essay topics to help you get started with your narrative essay writing.

  • When I got my first bunny
  • When I moved to Canada
  • I haven’t experienced this freezing temperature ever before
  • The moment I won the basketball finale
  • A memorable day at the museum
  • How I talk to my parrot
  • The day I saw the death
  • When I finally rebelled against my professor

Need more topics? Check out these extensive narrative essay topics to get creative ideas!

Narrative Essay Writing Tips

Narrative essays give you the freedom to be creative, but it can be tough to make yours special. Use these tips to make your story interesting:

  • Share your story from a personal viewpoint, engaging the reader with your experiences.
  • Use vivid descriptions to paint a clear picture of the setting, characters, and emotions involved.
  • Organize events in chronological order for a smooth and understandable narrative.
  • Bring characters to life through their actions, dialogue, and personalities.
  • Employ dialogue sparingly to add realism and progression to the narrative.
  • Engage readers by evoking emotions through your storytelling.
  • End with reflection or a lesson learned from the experience, providing insight.

Now you have essay examples and tips to help you get started, you have a solid starting point for crafting compelling narrative essays.

However, if storytelling isn't your forte, you can always turn to our essay service for help.

Our writers are specialists who can tackle any type of essay with great skill. With their experience, you get a top-quality, 100% plagiarism-free essay everytime.

So, let our narrative essay writing service make sure your narrative essay stands out. Order now!

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Narrative essay

Narrative Essay Writing

Narrative Essay Examples

Cathy A.

20+ Top Narrative Essay Examples by Experts

12 min read

Published on: Apr 12, 2020

Last updated on: Mar 24, 2024

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Narrative essays are a common assignment in school, but many students struggle to write them. 

The problem with narrative essays is that they can be difficult to write. They require students to think about their own experiences and to put those experiences into words. This can be a challenge, especially for students who are not used to writing about themselves.

The solution to the problem of writing narrative essays is to provide students with examples. By reading examples of narrative essays, students can see how other students have successfully written about their own experiences. 

In this blog post, we will provide you with examples of narrative essays.By the end of this blog post, you will have a better understanding of how to write a narrative essay.

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Before writing, go through narrative essay examples to ensure that outlining and formatting are done correctly. Moreover, looking at examples will allow the writer to understand sensory details and vocabulary to describe events, settings, characters, and emotions.

Here are some famous narrative essays that you can consider adding to your reading wishlist:

“A Modest Proposal” by Jonathan Swift

“Once More to the Lake” by EB White

“The Fourth of July” by Audre Lorde

“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin

“The Crisis” by Thomas Paine

But it doesn't end here! To help our students, CollegeEssay.org has gathered many other narrative essay sample. These examples will help you learn the correct formation of a narrative essay.

Read on to discover!

Personal Narrative Essay Example

Are you looking for a sample to draft a personal narrative essay ? Go through the example provided below to understand how the first-person and third-person perspectives are used in a narrative essay.

Sample Personal Narrative Essay

Narrative Essay Example for Middle School

A narrative essay is frequently assigned to middle school students to assess their writing and creative skills. If you are a student looking for a sample narrative essay for your middle school assignment, go through the example provided below.

Narrative Essay Example: 7th Grade

Narrative Essay Example for Grade 8

Grade 9 Narrative Essay Example

Sample Narrative Essay Grade 12

Narrative Essay Example for High School

When drafting assignments for high school, professional writing is essential. Your essays and papers should be well structured and written in order to achieve better grades. If you are assigned a narrative essay, go through the sample provided to see how an effective essay is written.

Sample Narrative Essay For High School

Good Narrative Essay Examples for College

College essays are more complex in nature than other academic levels. They require a better understanding of the concept, following a proper writing procedure, and an outline.

Although you are to draft a narrative essay for your college assignment, make sure it is professionally written. Read the sample narrative essay provided below.


Descriptive Narrative Essay Example

If you are to draft a document on the recreation of an event, a descriptive narrative essay is written. It presents an incident that happened to the writer and the backed-up information that supports the story.

The following is a perfect example of a descriptive narrative essay.

Sample Descriptive Narrative Essay

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Literacy Narrative Essay Example

Academic assignments often require students to draft essays on education. Education is the most significant topic of discussion, and for this purpose, almost every essay type and research paper studies it.

If you are drafting a narrative essay on literacy, go through the sample provided.

Fictional Narrative Essay Example

Drafting a fictional piece of document requires a more vivid description and detail. If you are assigned a narrative essay to draft on a fictional theme, read the example provided below.

Sample Fictional Narrative Essay

The Essentials of Narrative Essays

In a narrative essay, the goal is to write a story from one person's perspective. To do this well requires incorporating all of these aspects: 

Below are some golden points that you should keep in mind when writing a narrative essay.

  • Chronological order is the most common way to present information.
  • A thesis statement has a function in an essay. This is typically evident in the opening paragraph.
  • The writer's argument is clearly communicated through the use of sensory details and vivid language.
  • This draws the reader in and makes them interested in what the writer has to say. Everything in the passage is somehow related to the main point.

How to Start a Narrative Essay?

When you start writing the narrative essay, you should follow some steps and make your writing process easy.

For your help, we gathered some steps that you should follow when starting writing the essay.

  • Choose a narrative essay topic that is engaging and interesting.
  • Do some research and then start writing the essay.
  • Create an outline.
  • Start writing the essay. The way you describe things should be creative and colorful. Thus, the reader can feel as if they are right there with what's happening.
  • Proofread the essay before submitting it.

Watch the video below for tips on how to write a narrative essay:

Narrative Essay Writing Tips 

Professional essay writers of CollegeEssay.org have gathered some tips and tricks for you to follow to make your narrative essay remarkable. Even if you are aware of the writing procedure, it is advised to use expert tips to make your documents flawless. 

Follow the tips provided below to draft an exceptional narrative essay.

  • Clear Content: The narrative essay content should be clear. All the details and descriptions provided should be readable and understandable by the audience. Avoid using complex words and distribute content into paragraphs.
  • Keep it concise: Avoid describing every minor detail or movement. Provide only explanations that are important for the readers to imagine. 
  • Use first-person perspective: To make something believable and interesting for the readers, state it from the first-person perspective. Share your personal experiences, stories, and opinions to make the content impactful. 
  • Use limited referencing: When drafting an essay, according to the instructed format, avoid using frequent in-text citations. 
  • Use Clear Stance: Write your point of view clearly, so the readers feel that it is a genuine piece of writing. 

Keep in mind that a narrative essay is different from an expository essay but the same as a descriptive essay .  

In conclusion,

Using the tips provided by the professionals and going through the narrative essay examples will let you draft an effective paper. 

Looking for top-tier essay writing help online ?

Our narrative essay writing service offers unparalleled expertise to bring your stories to life with clarity and creativity.

Also, elevate your writing journey with the best essay writer , our AI-driven tool that combines cutting-edge technology with user-friendly functionality. Experience the blend of traditional craftsmanship and modern innovation in your next essay. Try it now!

Frequently Asked Questions

How long is a narrative paragraph.

Paragraphs vary in length depending on the content, but a standard 5-sentence paragraph usually isn't enough to tell an interesting story. 

How do I write a narrative essay?

Here are some steps that will help you to write a great narrative essay. 

  • Consider the topic 
  • Start writing the draft 
  • Provide supporting facts 
  • Revise your essay 

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narrative essay about parents

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Essay on Life Without Parents

Students are often asked to write an essay on Life Without Parents in their schools and colleges. And if you’re also looking for the same, we have created 100-word, 250-word, and 500-word essays on the topic.

Let’s take a look…

100 Words Essay on Life Without Parents

Introduction.

Parents are like a tree’s roots, giving us strength and stability. Without them, life can be hard. This essay will explore life without parents.

Emotional Impact

When parents are not present, children often feel alone and scared. They lack the love and comfort that parents provide. This can lead to feelings of sadness and loneliness.

Physical Needs

Parents provide food, shelter, and clothing. Without them, children may struggle to meet these basic needs. They may live in poor conditions and suffer from hunger.

Parents usually guide their children’s education. Without them, children may not get the support they need to do well in school. Their future can be affected.

Moral Guidance

Life without parents is challenging. Children need their love, support, and guidance to grow into healthy, happy adults. We should all appreciate our parents and the role they play in our lives.

250 Words Essay on Life Without Parents

Understanding the topic.

Life without parents is a situation no child should have to face. Parents are like a shelter, protecting us from life’s storms. They guide us, teach us, and support us. But what if this shelter is not there? What would life be like?

Without parents, life can feel empty and lonely. Parents are our first friends, our first teachers. They provide love, comfort, and security. Without them, a child might feel lost and alone. This loneliness can lead to sadness and even depression.

Learning and Growth

Parents are our first teachers. They teach us how to walk, talk, and behave. They help us understand the world. Without parents, a child might struggle to learn these basic things. They may also miss out on important lessons about values, morals, and responsibility.

Financial Stability

Parents provide for us. They work hard to make sure we have food, clothes, and a home. Without parents, a child might face financial difficulties. They may have to work at a young age, which can interfere with their education and future.

Support System

In conclusion, a life without parents is a tough journey. It’s filled with challenges and hardships. But with the right support and guidance, a child can overcome these obstacles and thrive. It’s crucial for society to step up and provide this support to children who are without parents.

500 Words Essay on Life Without Parents

Parents are like the sun that lights up our world. They guide us, protect us, and provide for our needs. But, what if we imagine a life without parents? It can be a scary thought, especially for young children who depend on their parents for everything.

Parents not only give emotional support but also provide for our physical needs. They work hard to earn money to buy food, clothes, and other things we need. They also take care of our health, taking us to the doctor when we are sick. Without parents, we may struggle to meet these basic needs.

Education and Future

Parents play a crucial role in our education and future. They help us with our homework, encourage us to study, and support our dreams. Without them, our education may suffer. We may also struggle to plan for our future, as we lack their guidance and support.

Learning Values

In conclusion, life without parents can be very challenging. We may face many difficulties, from emotional loneliness to struggling with basic needs. We may also miss their guidance in our education and future. Despite these challenges, it’s important to remember that there are other people in our lives who can support us, like relatives, friends, and teachers. They can help fill the gap left by our parents. Still, the role of parents in our lives is unique and irreplaceable. They love us unconditionally and support us in every aspect of our lives. Life without them is unimaginable. Therefore, we should always appreciate and cherish our parents while we have them.

This essay is not meant to make you scared or sad. Instead, it’s a reminder of how important parents are in our lives. So, let’s take a moment to thank our parents for all they do for us. Let’s show them our love and gratitude every day. After all, parents are the biggest blessing in our lives.

That’s it! I hope the essay helped you.

Apart from these, you can look at all the essays by clicking here .

Happy studying!

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  5. College Essay: My Parents' Sacrifice Makes Me Strong

    College Essay: My Parents' Sacrifice Makes Me Strong. Growing up in a first-generation immigrant family, I witnessed my parents' hard work ethic and challenging traditional Mexican customs. My parents migrated from Mexico as teenagers to find a better life. They grew up in poor villages where they didn't have enough resources to support ...

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    Narrative Essay About Love My Parents. Good Essays. 1152 Words. 5 Pages. Open Document. Since I was a little girl I have always witnessed the kind of love my parents had for each other. I always noticed that in comparison with my friend's parents as a couple they were less affectionate with one and other. As the years went by I could observe ...

  10. How to Write a Narrative Essay

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    The following essay, "My College Education" is from Chapter 15.2 - Narrative Essay, Writing for Success, University of Minnesota Libraries. The first class I went to in college was philosophy, and it changed my life forever. Our first assignment was to write a short response paper to the Albert Camus essay "The Myth of Sisyphus.".

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    In grade school I competed in a lot of powerlifting meets and got to travel all over the country to break world records. I missed Get more content on StudyHub Narrative Essay About My Family I grew up with both of my parents and three siblings, my family is extremely close, so close that everyone needs a break from one another from time to time.

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    Find great narrative essays examples here. Learn to write to an effective paper using our samples. Read this guide to know the writing process and tips.

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    Learn about the importance of the narrative essay conclusion with examples. Read about how to compose the last section of an essay for maximum effect.

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