Katherine Diana. That is my official name. Some friends call me Kat; others call me Kathy (which I cannot stand) but for the most part, I am known as Katherine. I was born on October 13, 1996 at St. John Hospital in Detroit, Michigan. Oldest of three children to Gia and Jim, I was raised a Greek Orthodox Christian in a home in Clinton Township. My two younger brothers, Mihali and Dimitri (now 15 and 12) live under this roof along with myself. My dad has the career of a mechanical engineer and works alongside my grandpa, the boss and founder of Asmach Engineering. On the other hand, my mom was a teacher, but stopped for numerous years to stay at home and take care of her children. As I entered 5th grade, she started substituting again. Mid-way through 6th grade, she was hired as a Spanish teacher of St. Mary Catholic School, where she worked until I graduated there in 8th grade. She has the illness fibromyalgia, in which she almost always is in some type of pain. My brothers and I try to help her with housework and other things as much as possible. I used to not have the best relationship with her, however, mid-way through junior year, I woke up and realized I needed to try harder to help her and respect her. Now, I truly love her and am sincerely sorry for how disrespectful I was in the past.

From Kindergarten through 6th grade, I attended a Catholic grade school, and then in 7th and 8th grade, I went to another Catholic school. Throughout my childhood, I was the typical ugly, shy-but-weird girl who didn’t have any true friends. Everybody knows that one person who tries to be so much alike to everyone else; unaware that no matter how hard they try, they will never be accepted. It was hard for me to fit in and be “normal”, but looking back, this helped evolve me into the wonderful person I am today. When I was in elementary school, I didn’t necessarily pay attention to what others did or how they dressed. I just did my own thing (with the help of my mom.) I tended to be on the shy side, and books were my best friends. During 5th and 6th grade was time where I really became a bully’s target. I was an outcast by not wearing branded clothes, like Aeropostale or Hollister, along with having a quite less than attractive face and body. Figuring a school transfer was fairly easy; (mainly because she was the new Spanish teacher) my mom thought I would be much happier at my new school. My fresh start did make me content; however, months later I realized these “friends” of mine were nothing better than at the previous Catholic school. Desperate to be similar to them, I bought a whole entire wardrobe filled with those branded clothes and whatnot. At lunch, I would sit at their lunch table, listening to memorable moments they have all had with each other. Although I could not participate in those conversations, I would try to chime in whenever I could. I played basketball with them too, but I was basically a benchwarmer to their starting spots. So, I basically gave up and befriended other girls (I have not yet mentioned how I failed to capture most guys’ attention, in ways other than being an ugly outsider.) However, in 8th grade, those new “friends” changed within a summer. Once again, I wanted to establish a sense of belonging, and stuck with them. Yet, as I graduated from Catholic school and headed to high school, I was completely alone.

The entire summer between 8th and 9th grade came and I spent it physically active and solely. In a way, it was good because I mentally and emotionally prepare and embrace the factors of high school; public high school, that is. Over the previous year, basketball became more of an enjoyment to me, so along with me putting in more of my “potential”/effort and practice, I decided to familiarize with the basketball team. I’d spend hours upon hours with these older girls, either in a summer scrimmage, or open gym. I made quite an impression on the JV Coach, as well as with the girls due to my talent and my dedication (I was the only incoming freshman who showed up.) In fear of having to take more than one semester of Physical Education, I started to play volleyball and come to those conditionings too. When I did not make the freshman volleyball team, I gave up and predetermined I would not be as good at it. Freshman year kicked in-not at first- but after a while. I easily made new friends and I was surprisingly excited for gym class, even though I acted like such a she-male compared to other girls. High school actually was not that bad…until my parents forced me to drop out of Honors Biology and Accelerated Algebra due to my not-so-pretty grades. Horrified to be in regular classes, I cried and gave myself much anxiety. Even though I had made my bed, I did not exactly want to lie in it. I was never a bad kid, however I started to befriend a few people who weren’t the best influences, and even though I did not follow in their footsteps, befriending them and keeping them close was not a smart idea. Still feeling thoughts of insecurity and unsightliness, I put up with some inappropriate comments and slight tormenting. Making JV basketball as a freshman is a huge accomplishment, but not when you have to sit on the sidelines because of a couple poor grades. Even with some help from my dad, I almost failed Algebra (math is my weakest subject), and I only had myself to blame. I sank myself into a deeper hole and lost much trust and respect from my parents.

Sophomore year came along and I was a little bit more excited. I knew I could do better this time around. Under the guidance of my parents, I signed up for easier classes; that way “easy A’s” could boost my confidence and GPA. With much regret, I did not take it as seriously as I was supposed to. I got an 18 on the practice ACT and my parents (and myself after getting reprimanded) were pretty disappointed. Ending up on JV a second year, I was pretty upset, but I knew I could prove myself. My grades were decent, so I didn’t have to be benched. Well, in the end, I actually did. Yes, I knew I should have played with more passion and devotion, but I still did not get as much playing time as I deserved. At the end of the season, my coach and I came to an agreement and I do truly appreciate everything he has done as my coach.
Time flew by and entering as a junior, I just knew it would be my year. Boy, was I sure as heck wrong. The beginning was decent, yet slowly but surely, things began to go downhill. As basketball season approached, I knew I was a shoe-in, so I slacked off and got lazy with working out. Varsity basketball. Something I was completely looking forward to; the guts and the glory. Very unfortunately, I ended up with neither, but lost all confidence and gained somewhat of a rumored reputation. Teammates are supposed to be your alternate family. Instead, mine (all of mine) stabbed me in the back and ripped my heart out. Suddenly, I had the horribly disgusting reputation as an “Autistic Female Dog” or a “Thirsty Harlot” (in more phrases than these.) I was the only true girl on my team. One night, I had gotten a text from a friend to check out Twitter. Turns out, half of my team had passively tormented me; worst of it all, I had not known. On top of it all, my coach did absolutely nothing. In fact, she added to the problem. During our “team” meeting, she primarily sat and listened to direct blaming and yelling towards me and the newer girl. At practice, she would constantly yell at me. Yet she knew I had ADHD (inattentive) and she explained to me that this was more of my learning year, therefore I would not get as much direction as I needed, as well as playing time. Obviously, one cannot get better without not only practicing, but playing in the game itself. The longer the season progressed, the worse I became. I did have a few positive moments to look back on. The night of the home game against Dakota, I was put in during the last 5 minutes in the 4th quarter; only because we were losing so much. Yet I still make a nothing-but-netter (the crowd went wild) and ran the right plays. My assistant coach congratulated me and was kind whenever possible, but kindness rarely came from the “drill sergeant.” I felt so depressed and alone, and ultimately to cease the pain, I quit.

I lost myself down a broken road, yet I wasn’t doing anything abhorrent. It took my parents seriously threatening to send me to live with my relatives and go to Grosse Pointe North (not as a punishment, but as a lesson) for me to truly open my eyes and wake up. Quitting the basketball team was honestly the best decision I have made throughout high school. My very first boyfriend, an amazing guy I have been friends with for literally forever from church. Dropped any friend who had not been there for me, especially when I needed them there the most. If any guy looked at me the wrong way, I would not even bother to acknowledge them. I had even filled out more job applications than I had ever imagined. Instead of eating in the lunchroom like every other teen, I would sit inside a teacher’s room, either writing more and more poetry or finishing every last problem to a homework assignment. Ended up with all A’s and B’s 2nd semester; raising my GPA from a 2.74 to a 2.83. Then, I was hired at Marchiori Catering as a server; one of THE best jobs a teenager could have. At last, I had gotten my crap together, and I was not about to stop.

Finally, as a senior, I, Katherine Diana, can see the present as well as the future. I love the person I have become and I want to continue to strive to success and accomplish my goals. I am officially president of GOYA, my church youth group, participant in church choir, along with the annual oratorical festival. As for school, I am NOT a basketball player anymore, but a creative mind/writer. I write for the school newspaper, as well as being a member of Writer’s Club. Writing is my ultimate passion; therefore I would feel the happiest with pursuing the career of a writer. A hobby of mine I have discovered over the last couple years is poetry. My poetry style is different; therefore I feel it will be put to greater use in producing song lyrics. Currently, I know absolutely nothing about music, so I must begin taking introduction classes. Oakland University is the dream college I will attend, but in order to avoid such high costs, I will first go to Macomb Community College, then transfer after 2 years. Creative writing is what I have decided to major in, and if all goes well with learning music, I would like to minor in music composition. I have the entire support from my family and sincere friends, who love me for who I am. Beautiful, genuine, intelligent and powerful are words that are now used to describe me. Ugly am I no more, and I am proud to stand tall and embrace my enemies. I am me, and no one else but me.