essay on my life threatening experience

Serena Williams Pens Powerful Essay on Her Life-Threatening Childbirth Experience

The new mom also urged others to help mothers around the world who don't have the same hospital access that many in the U.S. have.

Serena Williams  says she feared for her life following the birth of her daughter, Alexis Olympia.

The 36-year-old tennis pro welcomed her and her husband, Alexis Ohanian's, first child together on Sept. 1. What was supposed to be a joyous occasion turned into a near-death experience when her little girl was born by emergency C-section after her heart rate dropped dramatically during contractions. In a new essay, shared on CNN on Tuesday, Williams opens up about the "six days of uncertainty" after giving birth.

"I almost died after giving birth to my daughter, Olympia," Williams begins her emotional post. "Yet I consider myself fortunate."

The athlete continues by describing how it all began with a pulmonary embolism, "which is a condition in which one or more arteries in the lungs becomes blocked by a blood clot," that sparked a slew of health complications.

"I returned to surgery, where the doctors found a large hematoma, a swelling of clotted blood, in my abdomen," she describes. "And then I returned to the operating room for a procedure that prevents clots from traveling to my lungs. When I finally made it home to my family, I had to spend the first six weeks of motherhood in bed."

Thanking the medical team for their service, Williams explains how many women in the U.S. and around the world suffer from complications during childbirth.

"Around the world, thousands of women struggle to give birth in the poorest countries. When they have complications like mine, there are often no drugs, health facilities or doctors to save them," Williams expresses. "If they don't want to give birth at home, they have to travel great distances at the height of pregnancy. Before they even bring a new life into this world, the cards are already stacked against them."

She also recalled one woman's story, Mary James in Malawai, shared by UNICEF, who gave birth but lost her child the day after "because there weren't enough doctors or nurses to save him." She also urges people to take action to prevent these unfortunate incidents from happening.

"You can demand governments, businesses and health care providers do more to save these precious lives," Williams passionately writes. "You can donate to UNICEF and other organizations around the world working to make a difference for mothers and babies in need. In doing so, you become part of this narrative -- making sure that one day, who you are or where you are from does not decide whether your baby gets to live or to die."

This isn't the first time that Williams has opened up about her difficult journey after giving birth. She last opened up about her experience in the February issue of Vogue.

Watch below to hear more of her story.

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Writing About Personal Experiences

Table of contents, introduction, what does it mean to write about personal experiences.

It involves not just recounting events but infusing your narrative with the richness of your personal journey, allowing readers to get a glimpse of your life.

What Does It Involve to Write About Your Personal Experiences?

Structure of an essay about your personal experiences, the process of writing about personal experiences, 1. preparation:.

a. Reading a Sample Example:

2. Drafting:

During the drafting stage, concentrate on translating your ideas into coherent words, sentences, and paragraphs while adhering to your initial outline. Avoid becoming overly concerned with precision at this point; instead, prioritize fluency in your writing.

3. Revising, Editing, and Final Draft:

General tips for writing the perfect narrative of your personal experience, topics about personal experience narrative, sample personal experience narrative.

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The Life-Threatening Experience

By: Venidikt   •  Essay  •  494 Words  •  November 8, 2009  •  1,628 Views

Essay title: The Life-Threatening Experience

I was a freshman in high school and invited to the biggest party an underclassman could attend. I had no reason to think that attending this party would put me in a life-threatening situation. I thought the party would be exciting and fun. Instead, it turned into a night that ends so tragically.

One Friday night some friends and I decided to attend our high school's football game. Upon arriving, the stadium was already covered with overjoyed, and exciting fans. During the game, there was excited chattering about the party. Everyone was talking about going. Finally, the game was in the last seconds of the fourth quarter,a nd oru team was winning. The crowd was all fired up. When the game endend, everyone stampeded to their

cars and headed to the party leaving the once filled stadium deserted.

When we finally arrived to the party, I could feel my body trembling with excitement and nervousness. It was a couple minutes after 10 pm and the party was already jumping off. Wehn entering the main room, you could see people dancing, clowning, and just having a good time. Althought the room wasn't that big, I begin to dance and enjoy myself as well.

All of a sudden a fight broke out. You would have thought someone screamed free food the way everyone was running. People were falling all over the place trying to avoid the fight, but no one would break it up. When the fight was brought to a halt, everyone was ordered to leave. Everyone was stumbling trying to get out the house and to their cars, until one of the guys fighting

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A Battle for My Life

By Emilia Clarke

Just when all my childhood dreams seemed to have come true, I nearly lost my mind and then my life. I’ve never told this story publicly, but now it’s time.

It was the beginning of 2011. I had just finished filming the first season of “ Game of Thrones ,” a new HBO series based on George R. R. Martin’s “ A Song of Ice and Fire ” novels. With almost no professional experience behind me, I’d been given the role of Daenerys Targaryen, also known as Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Lady of Dragonstone, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. As a young princess, Daenerys is sold in marriage to a musclebound Dothraki warlord named Khal Drogo. It’s a long story—eight seasons long—but suffice to say that she grows in stature and in strength. She becomes a figure of power and self-possession. Before long, young girls would dress in platinum wigs and flowing robes to be Daenerys Targaryen for Halloween.

The show’s creators, David Benioff and D. B. Weiss, have said that my character is a blend of Napoleon, Joan of Arc, and Lawrence of Arabia. And yet, in the weeks after we finished shooting the first season, despite all the looming excitement of a publicity campaign and the series première, I hardly felt like a conquering spirit. I was terrified. Terrified of the attention, terrified of a business I barely understood, terrified of trying to make good on the faith that the creators of “Thrones” had put in me. I felt, in every way, exposed. In the very first episode, I appeared naked, and, from that first press junket onward, I always got the same question: some variation of “You play such a strong woman, and yet you take off your clothes. Why?” In my head, I’d respond, “How many men do I need to kill to prove myself?”

To relieve the stress, I worked out with a trainer. I was a television actor now, after all, and that is what television actors do. We work out. On the morning of February 11, 2011, I was getting dressed in the locker room of a gym in Crouch End, North London, when I started to feel a bad headache coming on. I was so fatigued that I could barely put on my sneakers. When I started my workout, I had to force myself through the first few exercises.

Then my trainer had me get into the plank position, and I immediately felt as though an elastic band were squeezing my brain. I tried to ignore the pain and push through it, but I just couldn’t. I told my trainer I had to take a break. Somehow, almost crawling, I made it to the locker room. I reached the toilet, sank to my knees, and proceeded to be violently, voluminously ill. Meanwhile, the pain—shooting, stabbing, constricting pain—was getting worse. At some level, I knew what was happening: my brain was damaged.

For a few moments, I tried to will away the pain and the nausea. I said to myself, “I will not be paralyzed.” I moved my fingers and toes to make sure that was true. To keep my memory alive, I tried to recall, among other things, some lines from “Game of Thrones.”

I heard a woman’s voice coming from the next stall, asking me if I was O.K. No, I wasn’t. She came to help me and maneuvered me onto my side, in the recovery position. Then everything became, at once, noisy and blurry. I remember the sound of a siren, an ambulance; I heard new voices, someone saying that my pulse was weak. I was throwing up bile. Someone found my phone and called my parents, who live in Oxfordshire, and they were told to meet me at the emergency room of Whittington Hospital.

A fog of unconsciousness settled over me. From an ambulance, I was wheeled on a gurney into a corridor filled with the smell of disinfectant and the noises of people in distress. Because no one knew what was wrong with me, the doctors and nurses could not give me any drugs to ease the pain.

Finally, I was sent for an MRI, a brain scan. The diagnosis was quick and ominous: a subarachnoid hemorrhage (SAH), a life-threatening type of stroke, caused by bleeding into the space surrounding the brain. I’d had an aneurysm, an arterial rupture. As I later learned, about a third of SAH patients die immediately or soon thereafter. For the patients who do survive, urgent treatment is required to seal off the aneurysm, as there is a very high risk of a second, often fatal bleed. If I was to live and avoid terrible deficits, I would have to have urgent surgery. And, even then, there were no guarantees.

I was taken by ambulance to the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery, a beautiful redbrick Victorian pile in central London. It was nighttime. My mum slept in my hospital ward, slumped in a chair, as I kept falling in and out of sleep, in a state of drugged wooziness, shooting pain, and persistent nightmares.

I remember being told that I should sign a release form for surgery. Brain surgery? I was in the middle of my very busy life—I had no time for brain surgery. But, finally, I settled down and signed. And then I was unconscious. For the next three hours, surgeons went about repairing my brain. This would not be my last surgery, and it would not be the worst. I was twenty-four years old.

Listen: David Remnick interviews Emilia Clarke on The New Yorker Radio Hour.

I grew up in Oxford and rarely gave a thought to my health. Nearly all I thought about was acting. My dad was a sound designer. He worked on productions of “West Side Story” and “Chicago” in the West End. My mother was, and is, a businesswoman, the vice-president of marketing for a global management consultancy. We weren’t wealthy, but my brother and I went to private schools. Our parents, who wanted everything for us, struggled to keep up with the fees.

I have no clear memory of when I first decided to be an actor. I’m told I was around three or four. When I went with my dad to theatres, I was entranced by backstage life: the gossip, the props, the costumes, all the urgent and whispered hubbub in the near darkness. When I was three, my father took me to see a production of “Show Boat.” Although I was ordinarily a loud and antsy child, I sat silent and rapt in the audience for more than two hours. When the curtain came down, I stood on my seat and clapped wildly over my head.

I was hooked. At home, I played a VHS tape of “My Fair Lady” so many times that it snapped from wear. I think I took the Pygmalion story as a sign of how, and with enough rehearsal and a good director, you can become someone else. I don’t think my dad was pleased when I announced that I wanted to be an actor. He knew plenty of actors and, to his mind, they were habitually neurotic and unemployed.

My school, in Oxford, the Squirrel School, was idyllic, orderly, and sweet. When I was five, I got the lead part in a play. When it came time to take the stage and deliver my lines, though, I forgot everything. I just stood there, center stage, stock-still, taking it all in. In the front row, the teachers were trying to help by mouthing my lines. But I just stood there, with no fear, very calm. It’s a state of mind that has carried me throughout my career. These days, I can be on a red carpet with a thousand cameras clicking away and I’m unfazed. Of course, put me at a dinner party with six people and that’s another matter.

With time, I got better at acting. I even remembered my lines. But I was hardly a prodigy. When I was ten, my dad took me to an audition in the West End for a production of Neil Simon’s “The Goodbye Girl.” When I got inside, I realized that every girl trying out for this part was singing a song from “Cats.” The only thing I could come up with was an English folk song, “Donkey Riding.” After listening rather patiently, someone asked, “How about something more . . . contemporary?” I sang the Spice Girls hit “Wannabe.” My dad’s hands practically covered his face. I didn’t get the part, and I think it was a blessing. My dad said, “It would have been hard reading anything bad about you in the paper.”

But I kept at it. In school productions, I played Anita in “West Side Story,” Abigail in “The Crucible,” one of the witches in “Macbeth,” Viola in “Twelfth Night.” After secondary school, I took a gap year, during which I worked as a waitress and went backpacking in Asia. Then I started classes at the Drama Centre London to pursue my B.A. As fledgling actors, we studied everything from “The Cherry Orchard” to “The Wire.” I didn’t get the ingénue parts. Those went to the tall, willowy, impossibly blond girls. I got cast as a Jewish mother in “Awake and Sing!” You should hear my Bronx accent.

After graduation, I made myself a promise: for one year, I would take only roles with some promise. I made the rent working in a pub, in a call center, and at an obscure museum, telling people that “the loos are just to the right.” Seconds lasted days. But I was determined: one year of no bad productions, no plays above a bar.

Read: More from The New Yorker on “Game of Thrones.”

In the spring of 2010, my agent called to say that auditions were being held in London for a new HBO series. The pilot for “Game of Thrones” had been flawed and they wanted to re-cast, among other roles, Daenerys. The part called for an otherworldly, bleached-blond woman of mystery. I’m a short, dark-haired, curvy Brit. Whatever. To prepare, I learned these very strange lines for two scenes, one in Episode 4, in which my brother goes to hit me, and one in Episode 10, in which I walk into a fire and survive, unscathed.

In those days, I thought of myself as healthy. Sometimes I got a little light-headed, because I often had low blood pressure and a low heart rate. Once in a while, I’d get dizzy and pass out. When I was fourteen, I had a migraine that kept me in bed for a couple of days, and in drama school I’d collapse once in a while. But it all seemed manageable, part of the stress of being an actor and of life in general. Now I think that I might have been experiencing warning signs of what was to come.

I read for “Game of Thrones” in a tiny studio in Soho. Four days later, I got a call. Apparently, the audition hadn’t been a disaster. I was told to fly to Los Angeles in three weeks and read for Benioff and Weiss and the network executives. I started working out intensely to prepare. They flew me business class. I stole all the free tea from the lounge. At the audition, I tried not to look when I spotted another actor––tall, blond, willowy, beautiful––walking by. I read two scenes in a dark auditorium, for an audience of producers and executives. When it was over, I blurted out, “Can I do anything else?”

David Benioff said, “You can do a dance.” Never wanting to disappoint, I did the funky chicken and the robot. In retrospect, I could have ruined it all. I’m not the best dancer.

As I was leaving the auditorium, they ran after me and said, “Congratulations, Princess!” I had the part.

I could hardly catch my breath. I went back to the hotel, where some people invited me to a party on the roof. “I think I’m good!” I told them. Instead, I went to my room, ate Oreos, watched “Friends,” and called everyone I knew.

That first surgery was what is known as “minimally invasive,” meaning that they did not open up my skull. Rather, using a technique called endovascular coiling, the surgeon introduced a wire into one of the femoral arteries, in the groin; the wire made its way north, around the heart, and to the brain, where they sealed off the aneurysm.

The operation lasted three hours. When I woke, the pain was unbearable. I had no idea where I was. My field of vision was constricted. There was a tube down my throat and I was parched and nauseated. They moved me out of the I.C.U. after four days and told me that the great hurdle was to make it to the two-week mark. If I made it that long with minimal complications, my chances of a good recovery were high.

One night, after I’d passed that crucial mark, a nurse woke me and, as part of a series of cognitive exercises, she said, “What’s your name?” My full name is Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke. But now I couldn’t remember it. Instead, nonsense words tumbled out of my mouth and I went into a blind panic. I’d never experienced fear like that—a sense of doom closing in. I could see my life ahead, and it wasn’t worth living. I am an actor; I need to remember my lines. Now I couldn’t recall my name.

I was suffering from a condition called aphasia, a consequence of the trauma my brain had suffered. Even as I was muttering nonsense, my mum did me the great kindness of ignoring it and trying to convince me that I was perfectly lucid. But I knew I was faltering. In my worst moments, I wanted to pull the plug. I asked the medical staff to let me die. My job—my entire dream of what my life would be—centered on language, on communication. Without that, I was lost.

I was sent back to the I.C.U. and, after about a week, the aphasia passed. I was able to speak. I knew my name—all five bits. But I was also aware that there were people in the beds around me who didn’t make it out of the I.C.U. I was continually reminded of just how fortunate I was. One month after being admitted, I left the hospital, longing for a bath and fresh air. I had press interviews to do and, in a matter of weeks, I was scheduled to be back on the set of “Game of Thrones.”

I went back to my life, but, while I was in the hospital, I was told that I had a smaller aneurysm on the other side of my brain, and it could “pop” at any time. The doctors said, though, that it was small and it was possible it would remain dormant and harmless indefinitely. We would just keep a careful watch. And recovery was hardly instant. There was still the pain to deal with, and morphine to keep it at bay. I told my bosses at “Thrones” about my condition, but I didn’t want it to be a subject of public discussion and dissection. The show must go on!

Even before we began filming Season 2, I was deeply unsure of myself. I was often so woozy, so weak, that I thought I was going to die. Staying at a hotel in London during a publicity tour, I vividly remember thinking, I can’t keep up or think or breathe, much less try to be charming. I sipped on morphine in between interviews. The pain was there, and the fatigue was like the worst exhaustion I’d ever experienced, multiplied by a million. And, let’s face it, I’m an actor. Vanity comes with the job. I spent way too much time thinking about how I looked. If all this weren’t enough, I seemed to whack my head every time I tried to get in a taxi.

Read: George R. R. Martin on his “Song of Ice and Fire” series .

The reaction to Season 1 was, of course, fantastic, though I had very little knowledge then of how the world kept score. When a friend called me exclaiming, “You’re No. 1 on IMDb!” I said, “What is IMDb?”

On the first day of shooting for Season 2, in Dubrovnik, I kept telling myself, “I am fine, I’m in my twenties, I’m fine.” I threw myself into the work. But, after that first day of filming, I barely made it back to the hotel before I collapsed of exhaustion.

On the set, I didn’t miss a beat, but I struggled. Season 2 would be my worst. I didn’t know what Daenerys was doing. If I am truly being honest, every minute of every day I thought I was going to die.

In 2013, after finishing Season 3, I took a job on Broadway, playing Holly Golightly. The rehearsals were wonderful, but it was clear pretty soon that it was not going to be a success. The whole thing lasted only a couple of months.

While I was still in New York for the play, with five days left on my SAG insurance, I went in for a brain scan—something I now had to do regularly. The growth on the other side of my brain had doubled in size, and the doctor said we should “take care of it.” I was promised a relatively simple operation, easier than last time. Not long after, I found myself in a fancy-pants private room at a Manhattan hospital. My parents were there. “See you in two hours,” my mum said, and off I went for surgery, another trip up the femoral artery to my brain. No problem.

Except there was. When they woke me, I was screaming in pain. The procedure had failed. I had a massive bleed and the doctors made it plain that my chances of surviving were precarious if they didn’t operate again. This time they needed to access my brain in the old-fashioned way—through my skull. And the operation had to happen immediately.

The recovery was even more painful than it had been after the first surgery. I looked as though I had been through a war more gruesome than any that Daenerys experienced. I emerged from the operation with a drain coming out of my head. Bits of my skull had been replaced by titanium. These days, you can’t see the scar that curves from my scalp to my ear, but I didn’t know at first that it wouldn’t be visible. And there was, above all, the constant worry about cognitive or sensory losses. Would it be concentration? Memory? Peripheral vision? Now I tell people that what it robbed me of is good taste in men. But, of course, none of this seemed remotely funny at the time.

I spent a month in the hospital again and, at certain points, I lost all hope. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye. There was terrible anxiety, panic attacks. I was raised never to say, “It’s not fair”; I was taught to remember that there is always someone who is worse off than you. But, going through this experience for the second time, all hope receded. I felt like a shell of myself. So much so that I now have a hard time remembering those dark days in much detail. My mind has blocked them out. But I do remember being convinced that I wasn’t going to live. And, what’s more, I was sure that the news of my illness would get out. And it did—for a fleeting moment. Six weeks after the surgery, the National Enquirer ran a short story. A reporter asked me about it and I denied it.

But now, after keeping quiet all these years, I’m telling you the truth in full. Please believe me: I know that I am hardly unique, hardly alone. Countless people have suffered far worse, and with nothing like the care I was so lucky to receive.

A few weeks after that second surgery, I went with a few other cast members to Comic-Con, in San Diego. The fans at Comic-Con are hardcore; you don’t want to disappoint them. There were several thousand people in the audience, and, right before we went on to answer questions, I was hit by a horrific headache. Back came that sickeningly familiar sense of fear. I thought, This is it. My time is up; I’ve cheated death twice and now he’s coming to claim me. As I stepped offstage, my publicist looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told her, but she said that a reporter from MTV was waiting for an interview. I figured, if I’m going to go, it might as well be on live television.

But I survived. I survived MTV and so much more. In the years since my second surgery I have healed beyond my most unreasonable hopes. I am now at a hundred per cent. Beyond my work as an actor, I’ve decided to throw myself into a charity I’ve helped develop in conjunction with partners in the U.K. and the U.S. It is called SameYou , and it aims to provide treatment for people recovering from brain injuries and stroke. I feel endless gratitude—to my mum and brother, to my doctors and nurses, to my friends. Every day, I miss my father, who died of cancer in 2016, and I can never thank him enough for holding my hand to the very end.

There is something gratifying, and beyond lucky, about coming to the end of “Thrones.” I’m so happy to be here to see the end of this story and the beginning of whatever comes next.

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By Oliver Sacks

By Daniel J. Levitin

By Merve Emre

The Experience of Fear

It's not just fight or flight..

Posted January 16, 2018

In the wake of #MeToo, many question the inaction of some who have found themselves in situations where they were physically or sexually threatened and/or violated. Without discussing particular situations, the problem is not that men or women who have been assaulted do nothing; the problem is that the vast majority of people lack a comprehensive grasp of the multi-dimensional aspects of a fear response. We talk extensively, and almost exclusively, about fight or flight , as if those are the only options. But there are others, and we, like other species, benefit from having a variety of strategies in our fear-response toolkit. So let’s discuss the lesser-known responses to fear: freeze and friend .

Some people are of the mistaken belief that how one responds in a threatening situation has to do with the individual's emotional, mental, or physical strength. Then what of the mightiest of sharks, the top of the food chain, the most feared creature in the ocean (unnecessarily, I might add) — the great white shark? They freeze (do nothing) in an effort to protect themselves when they have been turned over. They find this exceptionally life-threatening. The inaction on the part of the shark is not weakness; rather, it is the single best tool it has at its disposal in that particular situation. The shark isn’t doing a lot of cognitive processing and choosing to respond this way: Its survival instinct, if you will, is deciding that for it.

The reality is that inaction can save your life. For instance, I first discovered that I shared this trait with some of the most fearsome of animals when I fell off the back of a truck and was catapulted down a hill. As soon as I felt my body begin to leave the back of the pickup, I went limp. I have no recollection about my trip down the hill, but observers remarked that it was spectacular. Everyone, including myself, was shocked when I "woke up" to find that I had not broken a single bone, nor so much as sprained a joint. The only evidence of my journey was a minor scrape on one knee. We know that during a sexual assault , many people, men and women, children and adults, feel as if they “left their body.” This is well-documented and represents a clear example of this phenomenon. There is no ambiguity: It is absolutely a valid (though obviously passive) form of physical defense from predators/danger, from mates who are harassing you, and other hostile members of your own species. The drawback of this response, whether you be a shark, human, or mouse, is that if one remains too long or is forced into remaining in a “freeze” state, death is likely. Why? Immobility, or freezing, is an extreme reaction to a life-threatening and fearful situation, and the body will eventually shut down.

When it comes to consent, if you don’t understand the difference between someone who is actively engaged and responsive and someone who is frightened, you are the problem. Ask questions, stop and look the person in the eye. Are they smiling back at you? Are they looking to the side? Are they asking you to do something different? If you pretend you don’t know the difference, you are the problem. If they have told you that you are hurting them, and you continue, they may very well become nonreactive. But this is not consent; this is fear .

Another tool in the arsenal is the friend response. This loosely means that in response to a threat, an individual appeases, befriends, and may even smile and engage in conversation with the source of the threat. It, too, is a valid strategy in response to what is perceived as a life-threatening situation, regardless of what you may “think.” It is what I used to do with a former abusive partner. In a situation where I felt threat was imminent, I sometimes appeased and pacified. This is a well-studied and documented approach to conflict resolution in humans and other species, especially where there is an imbalance of power or strength.

Even though I personally think that gorillas are the nicest of all the great apes, male mountain gorillas regularly subject females to aggressive displays. What do females do? They respond with appeasement as a way of ending the aggression . This is hardly unique: Fish do it. Birds do it. Even water striders do it. Males do it. Females do it. Kids do it. Adults do it. What do these other species not do? Judge each other for how they handle or respond to fearful, threatening situations.

We, and other species, have evolved the ability to rapidly adopt an appropriate strategy to respond to life-threatening, fearful, or aggressive encounters. There is fight, flight, freeze, and friend. The regulation of these responses is hardwired into our brain circuitry, including the amygdala, which to a large extent instantaneously decides which strategy will help you survive. If you are among the many who insist that if those who don’t fight or flee are complicit or sending mixed messages, then you are part of the problem. How people respond is constrained by their need to survive, and stating from the sidelines how someone "should" respond is meaningless and dangerous. We need to do a better job of cultivating empathy, generating intolerance for violence and aggression, and developing strong communication skills.

Facebook image: ESB Professional/Shutterstock

Dr. Jennifer Verdolin is an animal behavior scientist specializing in social behavior. She is the author of Wild Connection: What animal courtship and mating tell us about human relationships.

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The Scariest Moment of My Life: A Brush with Fear

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26 People Share The Most Deeply Terrifying Experience Of Their Entire Life

• https://thoughtcatalog.com/?p=758630

1. A Bad Feeling

I was playing with my friend at a playground near my house. It was around dusk and we had been there for about an hour when we both stopped and immediately sprinted back to my house without saying a word to each other. Turns out we had both had the same dark, terrible feeling in our gut and knew we had to get out of there.

The next morning we went back and found a cat head on the playground, just the skull, and fur, nothing else, no brain or eyes or anything. We think it might have been a mountain lion as they are prevalent in our area.

It’s hard to explain that awful gut feeling, but I’ve never been so scared without being in any noticeable danger in my life.

2. Barbie And Baby

This is pretty silly actually. When I was a kid, I had a Barbie that came with a little baby. This baby unsettled me for some reason, something about its face was spooky. One day, I stopped playing and started to walk out of my bedroom, but something compelled me to go back to turn the baby’s face away from me first. I went to the bathroom, came back, and the baby’s face had somehow turned back to its original position, facing me. Understandably, I had an absolute fit. I cried to my mom and she told me that she had gone in my room and moved the doll, but later admitted that she lied to stop my hysterics. We hid the blasted thing, but it would reemerge every couple of years. I think it’s funny now, but I still wonder.

— glitzydirt

3. “Following The Pony”

7-8 years old me visited my grandparents in the countryside. According to my grandmother, she woke up in the middle of the night to her cows’ abnormal mooing, went outside to check and saw me walking into the fish pond. I did not wake up upon entering the water, she barely pulled me out of the water before I fell into the deep part of the pond. I was shaking uncontrollably, she had to carry me inside, it took half an hour to wake me up. When asked what happened, apparently half-conscious me answered: “I was following the pony.”

— Miutan213

4. A Remnant In The Office Building

When I was in high school, to earn extra money, I went and cleaned my dad’s boss’ office building on the weekends. Most of the time it was just me in there. Occasionally, someone would be in there working. It was never full though. Usually, if anyone was there, it was this one dude. I still don’t know what he did there. But, his office was WAY in the back of the building, almost in what I would call a closet. This was a construction company, and they had this big office with a giant table in it where they could spread out blueprints and go over them together. This guy’s office was in a closet behind this office. I worked there for years, and as I did, I kinda got to know this guy. I eventually bought myself a jeep wrangler when I turned 16, and he was a jeep guy himself, so we would always BS about jeep stuff. Honestly a really cool dude. The one thing that always stuck out to me about this guy, is he had this “tick”… Nothing weird, but noticeable. When he was standing and talking to you, he always stood with his left side facing you, with his left hand in his pocket and he would jingle his change in his pocket…

Well, the guy eventually died in the office one day. Not while I was there, during the work week. I remember my dad telling me about it and offering to let me go to the funeral, which I did.

A few weeks later, I’m in there cleaning. I’m not in the blueprint room, but in a room across the hall and I hear the front door open. They had a sensor on the door that made a loud “DING” noise when someone opened it. So, I heard “DING!” and could hear footsteps walking in. So, I’m sitting at this desk, dusting all this person’s nick-nacks and I hear that guy’s voice say “Hey, Gibby, how’s the jeep runnin?”. I’m kinda shocked and just staring at this person in the doorway, left side facing me, and jingling change in his pocket. I’m pretty much frozen in the chair just staring at him, and he kinda laughs a little. It seemed like he was about to walk away, and I kinda shuddered a second once everything registered in my brain. So, I blinked and when I looked back at the door, he was gone. I walked around the entire office and no one was there.

From that day on, anytime I went into his office, I said out loud “Hey, <name>. Wish you could see what I’ve done with the jeep” or something else like that. Always felt like he was in there still.

Dad has since retired from work, and I don’t get to go up to that office anymore. But, on the off chance I do, I like to walk in that office (it’s their gym now) and say hello.

— greatwhitegibby

5. Reflection In The Window

Working on a school report late at night in my ground-level bedroom. Glance up and stare at my reflection in the glass of the window. Realize it’s not my reflection. That someone is actually staring in at me, watching me from outside the house. Shudder. Still gives me chills.

— spindlemaker

6. Men In Ski Masks Stop At The Convenience Store

Back in 1984, the year I graduated high school, I took a job working the overnight shift at a convenience store in my hometown in rural Ohio. The town was/is a tiny place, less than 2,000 people, three stoplights (and, if you’re standing at any of them, you can always see the other two/lol), and the place that hired me had only begun staying open overnights a few weeks earlier. So, most nights, I would only see a handful of customers. Other nights, less.

About two months in, I was sitting behind the counter around three in the morning, reading a newspaper when a giant Cadillac came tearing into the parking lot and screeched to a halt. The driver slammed the car into park and, to my horror, all four doors popped open and out of each of them emerged men in ski masks. In an instant, they had whipped open the door of the store and entered. Three of the four fanned out and began to sweep through the store, the fourth staying by the counter.

Get this, nobody spoke. They moved in silence. After just a couple of seconds, one of the men pointed to the dummy security camera hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the store (and, when I say “dummy,” I mean DUMMY. It was fluorescent orange with six, count ’em, SIX lenses pointing in all directions. It could not have possibly looked faker), shook his head, and then all four of them shot back out the front door, dove back into the Cadillac, and tore out of the parking lot. How I didn’t absolutely shit my pants, I will never know.

So, I stand behind the counter for a couple of minutes, shaking while feeling tears of terror and relief running down my cheeks and then walk outside. Standing in the fresh air, with the town back to being so quiet I could hear the stoplight up the street clicking through its cycle, I seriously began to wonder if I’d hallucinated the entire thing. The juxtaposition of the explosion of activity and terror, immediately followed by a return to an almost dead quiet, finally gave me the giggles and I was soon doubled over laughing at the incongruity of the moment.

Finally, I stood up straight, stretched my arms and said out loud “Well, if you’re up there, thank you, God” and turned to walk back into the store. At that very moment, the same car came tearing back past the store, shot through the stoplight, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.

Mind you, all of this was in the service of earning $3.35 an hour/lol.

7. Grandpa Tries To Join In

I was about 16 and at this girl’s house for a hookup type thing. We start getting to 2nd base when she says “go away, grandpa!” Confused as hell, I ask her what she meant; she said her grandfather died in the room, in the bed we were doing shit on, and he “tried to join us.”

I noped the fuck outta horny grandpa’s house of horrors & never called her again.

— TheKearnival

8. Murder Party

I was at a party in high school. Nothing big, 3 girls, 4 guys, and our hosts step brother and step brothers girlfriend. Wasn’t really a “party” per se, we were just snacking and watching a movie.

Anyway, one moment the step brother gets up and walks to his room. Our host follows out of the room then comes back saying we need to leave.

Apparently, the step brother grabbed his gun and told our host that if we didn’t leave he was going to kill us all.

It was literally insane. He seemed like a regular dude, and I don’t think anyone detected anything wrong. It was scary to see a total 180 like that. Also, the fact that he was unstable and was armed.

— DudeStahp

9. Out past Curfew

One night, my buddies and I were going for a midnight walk around the roads by the house we were staying at. Since we were under 18, we could have gotten in trouble for being out past curfew, so we would hide behind trees or whatever when a car came by.

Well, my one friend said “Why are you guys hiding, no one is going to care or do anything!” Well, the next vehicle that passes, everyone hides behind something but him, to prove a point.

Shortly after that, the same vehicle, a red pickup truck, turns around up the road and heads back in our direction. This time, we all hid and noticed it was the same truck.

We figured they made a wrong turn or something, but nope. Every few minutes, the truck would pass by us as we hid (while we attempted to make it back to the house, about a half-mile walk), trying to find us. At one point, guys got out of their truck with flashlights and were searching around the woods/shrubs for us, but we were about 100 yards away from them.

Eventually, we got back to the house, but they still drove up and down the road looking a few more times. Whether they were trying to scare some random kids, or something worse, I’m not sure.

— aggressive_napkins

10. Blue Myst Road

There is a road near where I live that is famous for paranormal activity. It’s called Blue Myst Road , and its name is very accurate. At night, no matter the weather, there is what appears to be a thick blue fog moving along the ground. I’ve never actually seen anything personally, but we did hear muffled voices and what sounded like footsteps in the dense tree line right next to us. We tucked tail and took off.

— Local5Sparky

11. Not The Pizza Delivery Guy

I live in an apartment with 6 of my girlfriends. One day, all of my roommates went to a concert except for me and one other. We went to pick them up, got home around 11 PM, and ordered pizza. About 20 mins after ordering I hear a knock at the door, and I assume it’s the pizza being delivered. Instead, it’s this random man I’ve never seen before, telling me that he watched us get out of the car and would like to come in to talk to us as we are all beautiful…. Keep in mind it is 11:30 at night on a SUNDAY. He started to angle his body closer to the door, so then my roommate’s boyfriend came to the door where he was visibly shocked, uncomfortable and started to fidget. After telling him to fuck off, we realized he followed us home from the concert.

Being a woman can suck sometimes.

— TheFirstNoel_

12. “Why WOn’t You Go To Sleep?”

I was laying in bed trying to get my daughter to go to sleep and she was refusing to.

As I was getting more annoyed with her I asked: “Why won’t you go to sleep?” Her response was “Because those two people are watching us.” and pointed to the corner of the room where no one was stood (we were alone in the house).

Immediately picked her up and spent the night asleep downstairs.

— Custard-donut

13. Babysitting

I was babysitting this little kid, and we decided to go on a walk. We saw this creepy-looking abandoned house down the street. The windows were all smashed. The kid pointed up at the house and asked me, “Why is that man staring at us?” I said “What man?” He said, “Don’t you see him? He’s inside the house.” I just got really freaked out and said that we should go back home. We practically ran back to his house.

— VirtualEyeroll

14. Psych Meds Create A Hell On Earth

Visual hallucinations brought on by the wrong combo of psych meds gave me by far the scariest and most unsettling experiences of my life. The unsettling part was losing my reading comprehension skills. I’d read a comment on the discussion board I was frequenting at the time and it could say something as benign as, “I had a lovely breakfast have a great day” and I’d read it as “AbortRetryImplode you’re a failure. You should die.” So I’d write this angry response ripping the person a new one and then I’d get these sometimes apologetic sometimes “wtf is wrong with you?” responses in my inbox and I’d be totally confused.

The scariest was looking in the mirror and realizing I looked evil. I wouldn’t say demonic…but the way I was smiling and my eyes. I looked so evil it was terrifying. Kind of like something else had control of my face and I was seeing me, but not me? I know it probably doesn’t make sense but it scared the shit out of me.

— AbortRetryImplode

15. A Soft, Low Humming

Let me preface by saying I have only told this story to three or four people my entire life, and none of them believed me. I am aware I will sound crazy, but I swear to you this 100% happened to me when I was about 13 years old. Yes, I am sure I was not dreaming. No, we did not have a gas leak.

When I was about 13 years old, I was having trouble sleeping (it was probably 1 am or thereabouts). I was restless, tossing and turning, the whole bit. Well, I had almost given up and was just staring blankly at the wall next to my bedroom door, when the door begins to open, slowly.

Now, we had a cat at this time so the door not being properly closed and then pushed open by a feline friend would not have been outside of the norm, so at this point, I’m still calm. But then I take a look into the opening gap between the door and the frame.

Through the gap is a man in a black coat of some kind, with a white mask over his face, who is humming very soft and low. I immediately gasp (trying not to scream) and pull the covers over my face. My heart is racing and I’m listening for anything—any little movement. I don’t hear anything but I begin to hear that humming again and through my blanket make out a soft, amber light.

I decide this change may signal more immediate danger, so I summon all my courage and pull the covers down off my face— he’s gone. I look around the room and the man is no longer there. From outside, however, I see that same amber light. I walk, slowly, tensely over to the window and peer out.

Hanging in the air, at the same level as my second-floor bedroom window is a little orb of amber light which, although featureless makes a bounce-like motion that I (and I understand this sounds crazy) took to mean as it acknowledging me. It then moved through the air toward the tree line in back of our house and disappeared.

I still wonder what it is I saw.

— MountainDewMeNow

16. The Uncle’s Friend

My husband and I moved away so he could finish his degree at a more reputable university. His uncle happens to live in the same town as the school. We would hang out with his uncle and grill out, watch movies and play his really nice instruments. Really nice guy overall and someone two broke college aged kids could lean on if needed in a town where we knew no one.

His uncle’s friend started coming to some of our little shin-digs. All was well with his uncle’s friend, except for a few flirtatious comments, which I just shrugged off. He was about 20 years older than me, I was a girl in my early 20’s, I thought maybe it was his personality.

I was working in property management and the friend told me he was looking for a new apartment. Seeing a business opportunity and a chance to help a family friend, I gave him my business card.

About a week later, his uncle’s friend comes into my office. I was happy to see him assuming he was looking for an apartment. Nope. He proceeds to hand me a three-page typed letter which is folded and tells me “This is probably the last time you will ever see me.” He turned around and left. No explanation, so I read the letter.

The letter basically declared his love for me and stated his intentions to ‘win me over’. It said something along the lines of him beating my husband in karate. Also, he went on about how the men in my husband’s family are basically damaged and it wouldn’t work between my husband and I. He said it was a warning. It was a deranged rambling from a man I encountered maybe four times in my life.

Startled at my desk, I told my manager who I was pretty close with so he was aware of the situation. That afternoon my husband and I went to the police station to put the letter ‘on file’. Luckily I’ve never encountered that guy again, but now I think twice about handing out my business cards.

— ItsSmallsYall

17. Stalked By A Black Dog

I moved into a new place in a new country.

After a night at the pub, I got the feeling I was being followed. Turned around – huge black dog with red eyes glaring at me. I ran home, locked the doors.

Then I started getting nightmares about the thing hunting me down. And every time I was out at night, it was getting closer and closer…

I put it down to the stress of moving.

Well, until a friend of mine stayed the night to ease my mind. I found her awake at 3 am looking out the window, dog outside, she was pale as a sheet. She just whispered, “That’s a fucking hellhound.”

In the morning, she ran out of my house, came back a few hours later with this awful smelling powder, and hung it up in pouches around the room, with an extra pouch for me to carry.

Never seen the dog again. Never had a nightmare about it since.

— YrowyMcYrowface

18. A Plastic-Faced Doll

When my mom was a kid, she had this horrible stuffed clown with a plastic face. I searched the internet and found this image , which is pretty spot on.

Anyway, one day we (my brothers and I) brought it home from my grandparent’s house. Not sure why. We hated the thing. It was obviously creepy as all hell.

Once it was home, it would move from where we put it. You would leave it on the chair, leave the room, come back it would be on the bed.

We decided to take it and put it in a box and put weights on top of the box. We came back and it had moved the weights as the box and was sitting in the chair. This was in the basement so no one would have been able to get to it without going down the stairs, which is the way we exited and entered.

We then left the room again with it on the chair. Came back and it was outside the house, staring into the basement window. There is no way it could have got out the window (didn’t open) or past us on the stairs.

We then gave it a book and a pen and left the room. It wrote on the front of the book (it was a kids book about Houdini, I’ll never forget it) the name “Mike Stapher” in almost movie style scratchy scrawls writing.

Most horrifying thing I’ve ever encountered.

We told my parents and they destroyed it.

19. Beaten By A Murderer

Scary in the moment, scarier after.

Was hanging out in a park drinking with some friends and these random 3 guys come by and start chatting with us. Mainly me. (only guy)

I offer them my alcohol as I don’t want it. We chat more. They start walking away and I’m in mid conversation with a guy, so I walk with them a bit and the guy turns me to and says “What are you gonna do?” before I knew it, they had met up with other guys behind me and there’s 6 guys around me, punching and pushing. I get knocked in my face pretty good and go down. They continue kicking and walk away.

I get up furious and break an empty bottle and they start yelling things, while the girls realize what just happened and surround me and bring me to the closest guys house.

They come back with 20+ people, girls, guys, and we had already called them cops. Cops catch about 5, 2 of the main guys I was talking to. Turns out they had knives on them. Scary/lucky enough nothing worse happened to me except a black eye and a few cuts.

A year later one of the guys goes to prison for murder. Sent a chill down my spine that I almost got in a fight, rather than a beat down, with a murderer.

— throwyoworkaway

20. That Nightmare That Was Real

My cousin was staying at or house for a weekend. My sister was good friends with her and they were set to sleep in the basement together. Me, being the younger sister, desperately wanted to stay down there with them. I fell asleep and had the most terrifying and realistic nightmare of my life. They went into the bathroom and came out as monsters who told me I had to fall asleep or they were going to eat me. For YEARS I thought I had actually had that nightmare and it still scared me to think about. Last year my sister admitted to actually doing that and I found out it wasn’t a nightmare but they tortured me like that for real!

— vietnam_da_licious

21. “It Used To Be”

This actually happened to my brother 2 weeks ago in the house we grew up in.

So, my brother still lives there with my grandma. Brothers room is in the basement. In the living room, there is a huge glass sliding door that opens onto our deck, with a large shared courtyard behind it. At about 2 am, my brother hears this door slide open. He is still up gaming or whatever. He yells, “HELLO?” and hears a man’s voice, say “hello” back, very calmly. Scared, he yells “WHO IS THIS” and the man calmly replies, “John”. “Well John, this isn’t your house so you better leave” and John replies, “well it used to be” as he walks towards the kitchen and opens the fridge ( my brother assumes from the noises he hears).

Scared, my brother stays downstairs and calls the police. It takes the police over 30 minutes to respond (if you can believe that!) and by the time they get there, there is no man in the house or any trace of it.

My Grandma has owned that house for 25 years.

22. Green Eyes, Watching

As a child my dad was a drunk. One night my dad an I alone camping in a yurt went 4-wheeling at midnight. He was wasted. It was a jacked up old Ford Ranger, being a pretty light truck, when my dad hit the edge of the cliff on our way back, it was teetering on edge. My dad told me to get out, I was maybe 5-6 years old. Truck was stuck so we walked back to camp, it was about 2 miles away. Halfway there my feet got tired so my dad put me on his shoulders, looking behind him. I stared into the green eyes of a giant mountain lion following us. The increase in stature scared him off, and I watched him book it up the mountain. Haunts me to this day.

23. Something In The Corner Of Your Eye

I worked in a private club at the top of a big hotel. I came in one day and our linens had just been delivered. And all of our linen bags reeked like gasoline. Everyone thought it was strange. It was kind of a slow night and I was working on the bar side. It has really long hallways. All night long I kept seeing flashes of a man out of the corner of my eye. When I was bringing dishes back to the kitchen it felt like someone was walking behind me. I thought I was just being paranoid, there were rumors of it being haunted and it wasn’t the first time I saw something weird. After we closed I was setting up the bar for the next days lunch and my coworker came over to talk to me. He mentioned that he kept seeing a man out of the corner of his eye and felt like someone was standing behind him most of the night. I hadn’t said anything to anyone about it until he brought it up. It freaked us both out so we worked together the rest of the night. Turns out that over the weekend the linen company we used had a truck flip and catch on fire and the driver got ejected and died. They brought us the bags and linens from his truck without having re-washed them first. We found out the next day why the linen bags smelled.

— roraverse

24. Nearly Killed By Mexican Cartels

My dad used to work at an Oxxo, when I was like 9. It’s a gas station in Mexico. He worked night shifts and the stores stayed open 24/7. Night time in Mexico is when it gets bad and when everybody goes inside and it is when all the cartels and Marines come out and if they run into each other there’s a shootout that’s for sure going to happen.

Well, one night at about 2 AM, three trucks pulled up and everybody got out, about 14 men in body armor, Gloves, boots, black cargo pants, leaving all of their doors open blasting narco corridos. It was the Zeta cartel. I remember being scared shit less and our dad told us to just stay quiet. I thought we were gonna take my brother since they would kidnap young guys and send them to work with them. And thought my dad was gonna have a gun pointed at him since he was the one behind the register.

Some of the men waited outside with their m-16s and about 6 walked in with no noticable weapons and bought a bunch of chips, bread, beer, drinks, sodas, candy. I remember expecting for them to walk out with all of the stuff without paying but they paid for it all and let my dad keep the change. My brother and I then helped them put the bags in their trucks for some reason, and when we did we set them on top of their grenades, all types of rifles and pistols. Then they just got back in and drove off. Oh and there was a guard that worked there at some point and my bro and I were cool with him, and sometimes we would chill outside and the guard would mess with the payphones that were against the stores wall and pretend to flirt with the operator lady. Well one day he did that while some cartel members were there and they thought he was calling the people above him to tell them that the cartel was there, so they snatched him up and we never heard of him again.

— bloodshotredd

25. White Faces In The Snow

I’ve told this before and it always gets buried. We were driving in the mountains in Colorado with some friends on our way to a ski lodge in Telluride. On the way to our hotel we were driving up and down these winding roads deep deep in the mountains which seemed like forever. It was pitch black outside and around 3 AM and we had to at least be 45ish minutes from the nearest town, and it was cold, like see your own breath below 10 degrees freezing cold.

As we were driving along, my friends and I all see four figures walking on the road coming towards us. We all get weird feelings inside but I did especially, and the hair on my neck stood up. Something didn’t seem right. We were way too far away from a town and it was wayyy too cold for hitch hikers or hikers of any sort. We get closer and closer and as we got right next to these “people” we slow down and we realized that they had NO Faces!

Four people walking in the dead of the night wearing black hoods and cape like gowns and they literally had no faces. And by no faces I mean like no eyes, mouth, ears, just blank white pale faces. I’m familiar with ski masks and these were not ski masks. They had hoods on like something from Scream almost. My friends and I all freaked the fuck out speeding away, and my toughest manliest friend of us all was crying, mind you he was in his late 20s. It was the most afraid I’ve ever been and it still scares me thinking about and typing out. No idea what they were.

— Proffesor

26. A Shriek In The Night

Coming back home from my deployment, I stayed at my parents house for a few weeks while my late grandmother, who was suffering from severe dementia stayed in the room adjacent from mine. it was around 2AM when I’m awoken by a blood curdling shriek that lasted for what felt like an eternity, but must’ve actually been about 30 seconds in just one breath. It turns out she was sleepwalking, tried to enter my room and slammed herself into the baby gate we had for my puppy. I honestly don’t know what was more terrifying, hearing that shriek suddenly in the dead of night, or flicking on the dim ceiling lights and seeing her stare at me, face was decrepit, mouth agape and her eyes wide as can be. It makes my blood run cold every time I think about it.

About the author

Eric Redding

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An Experience That Changed My Life Essay | Life Changing Experiences, Long and Short Essays on Life Changing Experiences

October 1, 2021 by Prasanna

Experience That Changed My Life Essay: It is rightly said that ‘Experience is the best teacher.’ Experience teaches a lot more things. Life gives you many experiences and certain experiences in your life can impact you a lot. In life we all have faced some or the other experience that has changed the way we perceive things. Through these life lessons we can learn a lot about ourselves and how strong we can be in difficult situations and circumstances.

You can also find more  Essay Writing  articles on events, persons, sports, technology and many more.

Long Essay on Experience that Changed My Life 500 Words in English

Sometimes things are out of our control and we can’t do anything about it. Experiences can be good and sometimes terrible that results in a positive or negative impact on one’s life. Life is full of many unexpected challenges and unknown turning points that will come along any time. People must learn and grow from every experience that they go through in life rather than losing yourself. Change is a part of life. Life gives many experiences almost every day.

An experience that changed my life was on 21st August 2004. One of my biggest life changing experiences was the time when I lost my father suddenly. Till that very day I was a very immature and jolly person. I don’t know what the worries were. I was the eldest one in my family. But as we lost the head of our family life took a new turning point in my life I had to take charge of all the decisions made which I had never done before. My mother was not in a state to understand anything. I started making big decisions even about finances, about our house and many more.

When my father died, my life had changed completely. I lost him in my own lap. He took his last breath and it was very heartbreaking. Accepting his loss was one of the hardest things that I’ve ever had to do. It was very hard because it was unpredictable. I let all my emotions out, because I had to remember to take care of myself and my family too. Now it was the time for me to be more responsible.

His death made me an introvert, more responsible, think for myself and my family, and see things differently. Now that he is gone, I have to take charge of many things. My father was my counselor, my friend, my guidance, and most of all my motivator. I feel completely lonely without him.

I also experienced how people were falsely claiming that he is a family member of theirs and they will take care of me and my family, but two weeks after the cremation they were the same as before with no sympathy. I finally got a glimpse of the real world who are my real well wishers and who are not. Looking back at all of this I realized how important my father was to me. Now I am a more focused and responsible person. I still feel my father lives through me. Even though my father is gone he still guides me at each and every point of life. His death made me an introvert, think for myself and my family, and live life practically. I wish I could thank him for making me a better person. It was his inspirations which made me handle things in a proper way.

Short Essay on Experience that Changed My Life

According to me, experiences are very important to forge our personality over time. From very childhood I grew up in a nurturing and loving environment where I always felt safe and loved. My parents always made me feel important. I was a stubborn child. I used to throw tantrums if things didn’t go my way. I was a very demanding child as well, though my mother loved me unconditionally. My mother was very patient and compassionate and used to explain things so well to make me understand why things couldn’t always be how I wanted them to be. But as a child I never wanted to understand her preachings. But then once on a school trip to an orphanage totally changed my view towards life.

Orphanage is the place where the orphans (children who are homeless having no parents) are taken care of.

Once when I was in Grade 4 our school planned an educational trip to an orphanage institute.We were asked to bring whatever we wanted to donate. My mother gave me some of my old toys, clothes and some sweets. We collected a good amount of material to distribute.

As we entered the orphanage all the kids gathered in a hall. There were children of all ages. They strayed at us with eyes full of hope. We were asked to distribute the things and spent some time with them. They were so excited to receive these old things. In conversation with them we came to know that they have only two to three dresses to wear. One plate and a bowl for their food. Even the food served to them was always the same and limited. They don’t have many varieties of food to eat. They have toys in common to play with. These children don’t know the meaning of love, care and affection. They cannot demand for anything. The plight of every child was so miserable.I realised all my mistakes. I realised fortunate I am to receive all the luxury.

I never liked it when my parents reprimanded me for not studying properly, when I made blunders, when I didn’t listen to them but there was a concern behind every word that they said. They took care of me at every juncture of my lives no matter what their condition.

But I felt so sorry for these children because they are lacking all those words of care, anger, and love.

Visiting the orphanage is a life changing experience for me. From that day I started appreciating the little things in life. I never demanded for unexpected things. I feel like helping every needy person.

I also started understanding my mother’s preachings and with her help, over time, I learned how to deal with my emotions and situations and these experiences shaped my behavior and personality.

I feel extremely fortunate that I have parents with me and they provide me all the luxury. I am thankful to them.

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Essay on My Most Dangerous Experience

Students are often asked to write an essay on My Most Dangerous Experience 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.

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100 Words Essay on My Most Dangerous Experience

Introduction.

My life has had many exciting moments. But the most dangerous experience was when I got lost in a forest during a family camping trip. It was an adventure I’ll never forget.

The Camping Trip

My family and I went on a camping trip to a dense forest. We had fun exploring nature. One day, I decided to go on a solo adventure, not knowing the danger that awaited me.

Getting Lost

I strayed too far from our campsite. Soon, I realized I was lost. The forest was dark and scary. I couldn’t find my way back. I was alone and terrified.

Luckily, I had a whistle with me. I blew it hard. My family heard the sound and found me. It was a frightening experience, but I learned a valuable lesson about safety.

250 Words Essay on My Most Dangerous Experience

Every person has some scary moments in their life. These scary moments can be big or small, but they leave a lasting memory. My most dangerous experience was when I got lost in a dense forest during a family camping trip.

One sunny day, my family and I decided to go camping in a forest. We packed our tents, food, and other things. We reached the forest, set up our tents, and started exploring. I, being the most curious one, wandered off a bit too far.

I was so busy looking at the beautiful birds and plants that I didn’t notice I was moving away from my family. Suddenly, I realized I was alone. I tried to find my way back, but all the trees looked the same. I was lost. I started to feel scared.

The Fear and Rescue

As the sun started to set, the forest became dark and scary. I could hear strange sounds. I was very scared. I climbed a tree and stayed there. After what felt like a long time, I heard my dad’s voice. He was calling my name. I shouted back. Soon, my dad found me. I was so happy to see him.

That was the most dangerous experience of my life. I learned a valuable lesson that day. Now, I always stay close to my family when we go on trips. This experience taught me the importance of being careful and not wandering off alone.

500 Words Essay on My Most Dangerous Experience

Everyone has some memories that stick with them forever. For me, one such memory is of a dangerous experience that I had when I was just a teenager. It was a sunny day when my friends and I decided to go on a bike ride to the outskirts of our town. Little did we know, this trip would turn into an unforgettable adventure.

The Bike Ride

The rain quickly turned into a storm. Lightning flashed across the sky, and the wind blew fiercely. We tried to ride our bikes in the rain, but it was hard to see. The roads were slippery, making it hard to control our bikes. We were scared, but we knew we had to keep going. We had to get home.

The Accident

Suddenly, my friend’s bike slipped on the wet road, and he fell. He was hurt, and his bike was damaged. We were all shocked and scared. We didn’t know what to do. We were in the middle of nowhere, with no one around to help us. My friend was in pain, and we had to get him to a hospital.

That day was the most dangerous experience of my life. It taught me many valuable lessons. It taught me the importance of being prepared for any situation. It taught me about bravery and friendship. But most importantly, it taught me that life can be unpredictable, and we must always be ready to face any challenges that come our way. Despite the fear and danger, I am grateful for this experience because it made me who I am today.

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

Happy studying!

This helped me very much but l needed 300 to 350 words

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The crowd was all fired up. When the game endend, everyone stampeded to their cars and headed to the party leaving the once filled stadium deserted. When we finally arrived to the party, I could feel my body trembling with excitement and nervousness. It was a couple minutes after 10 pm and the party was already jumping off. Wehn entering the main room, you could see people dancing, clowning, and just having a good time. Althought the room wasn't that big, I begin to dance and enjoy myself as well. All of a sudden a fight broke out. You would have thought someone screamed free food the way everyone was running...

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One Friday night some friends and I decided to attend our high school's football game. Upon arriving, the stadium was already covered with overjoyed, and exciting fans. During the game, there was excited chattering about the party. Everyone was talking about going. Finally, the game was in the last seconds of the fourth quarter,a nd oru team was winning...

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High School experience A View from the Inside: Analyzing Friday Night Lights friday night lights Football Referees: Friends or Foes Life after high school Stupid Friday Night Shit The Game (Football Personal Experience Paper) Football Experience High School Football High School Life and College Life Life Threatening Interaction Between Protease Inhibitors And The Illic The Last Day Of High School - The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life The Life-Threatening Experience Football Teams- High School The Football Experience

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Home — Essay Samples — Life — Personal Experience — 250-Word about Your Life Experience

250-word About Your Life Experience

• Categories: Life Changing Experience Personal Experience

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Words: 262 |

Published: Jun 24, 2024

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