After my mother and father split up, my mother decided it was best for my brother and I to grow up surrounded by family. So, we moved to Kuwait. I spent eighteen years of my life in Kuwait, and I don't regret one moment of it. During the first few years after my parents split up, we would come back to the US to visit my father during the summer and winter holidays. However, eventually that stopped and my only communication with my father would be Sunday phone calls for almost six years. Times were tough at times, especially after my mother lost her job.
My father would help pay for our school tuition and other essentials. My father would also send us plenty of gifts, but even that stopped after a while. The one thing my father never gave up, though, was making sure that my brother and I received the best education available to us. During this time, we were raised by my mother and her family. My uncles replaced the role of my father at times, teaching me how to fish, drive cars, drive a jet ski, and generally “be a man”. My aunts would help babysit us when my mom was busy working or on a business trip. My grandma would take my brother and I on trips all over the world when my mom was busy with a project at work.
My family had its share of problems, but they were always there supporting me. All they ever wanted from me was to do good in school and succeed in life. No matter how many times I screwed up, I knew I could rely on my family to support me and push me to do better. If it wasn't for their support, I would never be where I am now. I wouldn't be at UCLA, I wouldn't be a successful computer scientist, I wouldn't be me. I can never truly repay them for what they did, but the least I can do is try my hardest to achieve the dreams they've enabled me to and hopefully help them achieve theirs.