Personal Narrative: Kyle Vanriel

Memoirs of an otherworldly guy called Kyle I think I’m like a pit bull, a gentle giant that is misunderstood by society’s social constructs. I am fearless, fierce, compassionate, sympathetic, opinionated and misconstrued; however, I take all those combination of which I really am and what I am perceived as and make them into a beautiful art of what I call Kyle Vanriel. I am a proud geek. My favorite moments in life are people recognizing and calling me weird, geeky and otherworldly. This recognition leaves me knowing that my individuality is indeed making an impact on people’s life, whether they find it “weird” or “cool”. My inner geek is me dancing to my own beat, literally. I like to think of myself as a mechanical person, which means …show more content…
I am passionate about animals especially dogs, chinchillas and horses. My dad grew up on horses and naturally he wanted all his children to be equestrians; however I was the only one who took a genuine interest in loving horses and wanting to ride them for the rest of my life. I remember my first time hopping up on a horse at three years old. The horse was way tall but I think that was because I was way short. The horse’s name was Puny and she herself was a gentle giant. She was my first love and I rode her bareback with my dad leading her of course. From then on I believed in my talent and passion and my dad believed in it too so we started riding training sessions. I learned to ride on Puny until I became confident enough to trust another horse however Puny died shortly after and in order to continue riding I had to trust another horse, and as brave as a lion I took the challenge and started riding another horse. Skip forward to nine years old, I became an impeccable rider; my passion grew taller than the skies above. Finally I was on the race tracks. I was being trained to become a jockey so at 16 I’d be ready for the real deal, but my first training did not go off as planned. Chakka Chakka was my new horse, he was supposed to be the one to harness my skills and teach me how to handle a more jittery horses. I started off strong down the race tracks and halfway through he came to sudden halt, reared and off I fell and if that wasn’t tragic enough, he fell right on top of me. My dad and the workers on the ranch came running; my foot was dangling as that of a puppet. They rushed me to the emergency room and found out I had broken my femur, like a flash of lightening the memory strikes and I still remember that moment fresh and current. It took over three months for me to recover physically, but as soon as I was recovered, honey I was back in