“Discuss a Risk That Has Led to a Significant Change (Positive or Negative) in Your Personal or Intellectual Life.”

“Discuss a risk that has led to a significant change (positive or negative) in your personal or intellectual life.” A risk: something that can be as simple as splurging on a pair of expensive shoes, or something as life-altering as marriage. Looking back, 2008 was the most difficult year of my life, all because of a small risk that had a huge domino effect. The poet, T.S. Eliot once said, “You have to risk going too far to discover just how far you can really go,” and boy, was he right. A car ride conversation—that was the most significant risk I’ve ever taken. I remember every detail like it was yesterday. It was one of the first warm days of the year, sometime in mid-April. I was riding in the car with my sister-in-law, Michelle, and she was taking me back home after I stayed with her and my brother during my spring break. The radio was on and the windows were down; it was as cliché as any car ride can get. I knew I had to tell her everything because if I didn’t tell somebody soon, I knew that more than one person could be affected, or even hurt. At the same time, I was trying to deny the inevitable. The shame and guilt had been building up for almost a month, and I was a time-bomb, waiting to go off. So, I did what I had to do, I took the risk. My mother was broken, and I had to do something before she broke me too. When you think of an alcoholic, the mental image that comes to mind is an unemployed, deadbeat old man, slowly drinking away his life. My mother was and never has been any of those things. And yet, both of these people live their life for one thing: the next drink. Growing up, my mother’s condition was never a red flag. It was all I had ever known. I was raised in an upper middle class environment. I had a nice house, there was always food in the refrigerator, and Christmas was never a disappointment. To outsiders, it would seem as if nothing