describe your growth experience

Growing up as a “spoiled” only child, I took it for granted that the focal point of my family should be me for 15 years, until one day, my mom told me that she was pregnant. I was totally NOT okay with it. Unable to accept that there will be another person sharing my parents’ love all of a sudden, I began to defy. I ran away from home but my mom found me wandering on the street soon. She was very scared so took a week off to take care of me at home. I then tried a hunger strike, but within a day I couldn't stand it and gave up. I tried a series of other plans which eventually failed too. My little brother arrived as scheduled anyway the next spring. “I hate him! ” I almost felt attempted to throw a punch at this crying little brat. His white diapers were everywhere in the bedroom and on the balcony; my snack rack was also filled with his milk powder and milk bottles, and he even took over the living room, which used to be the exclusive territory for me to play the piano. I watched with heartache as my Lego robot was stepped under his feet by his huge Transformers, and my toy puppy was randomly stuffed into his train carriage, which drove into the distance. Even the air was full of his strong smell of baby powder! As the epidemic broke out, my parents became busier at work, and the heavy responsibility of caring for the little guy fell onto my 70-year-old grandfather - and me. Fifteen years ago, my grandpa and grandma taught me how to walk, how to talk, and played harmonica for me. Now, grandfather has been much older after grandma passed away. I think I have to do something for him. Especially when I was taking online courses at home, I helped my grandfather with housework and took care of my sibling in my spare time. I learned to make him milk powder, change diapers, and hummed him to sleep. Gradually, I also read storybooks to him. Sometimes, I would put him on my lap to teach him piano. It was not until this summer that I realized this little guy is actually my younger brother. “McDull, come here! ” I named him McDull, the name of a character in an animated film. That McDull is not smart, yet he is sincere and righteous - this is also my expectation for my brother. Before the birth of McDull, I always imagined scenes of savage children fighting for toys with their sisters. However, McDull has made me feel the innocence and love of children. He shares with me delicious snacks that he is reluctant to eat; after he could walk, every morning he would quietly run out of bed and sneak into my room, get into the bed and sleep for a while again. Such details that I never valued before, now seem so delightful. Moreover, I also start to recognize myself transforming in positive ways. Except for in-school academic work and extracurricular engagement, I fell in love with reading, from Ivanov’s History of the Telescope, Yuval Harari’s A Brief History of Mankind, to Milan Kundera‘s The Unbearable Lightness of Life, etc. Reading allows me to look at the world more rationally and broaden my horizon. I also joined the school’s football club and became a football deputy captain. To maintain fitness, I insisted on exercises every day including running, swimming, and tennis. All of these drove me to become a more balanced and well-rounded person. I am no longer the complaining, wayward, self-obsessed girl. I learned to share, to take family responsibility, and to strive for excellence, just because of a small but also great wish: I want to be the “superhero” of my McDull.