Post by isabelle robin kaite on Jul 8, 2010 3:22:01 GMT
`ISABELLE ROBIN KAITE
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the world is at your command[/font][/color][/b][/i]
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IZZY , FIFTEEN , GRYFFINDOR , LEA MICHELE,
ENTHUSIASTIC, STRAIGHT, ORDER OF THE PHOENIX/DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY [/color]
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the girl with kaleidoscope eyes[/font][/color][/b][/i]
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[/color]oh now, are you serious? you want me to talk about how i look? i don't really like this talk. it's not that i hate the way i look, it's just, i don't really particularly like the way i look. i mean, i'm not too fat or too skinny or too tall or too short. i'm just sort of average, sort of normal, sort of typical. i'm like all the other girls you see wandering around. there's nothing interesting or spectacular about me at all. i'm just sort of... izzy. i guess i could get down to the hard facts of everything if that's necessary. i'm about 5 foot 3 and i weigh around 130 pounds. people tell me that's normal, but i feel kind of uncomfortable in my own body. i've got dark brown hair and brown eyes. i've got tan skin. i know, strange. it's my natural skin tone though, i don't go tanning like some of those girls who look orange like oompa loompas.
i don't have much in the sense of style. i like to be comfortable and quiet and cozy. i wear a lot of muggle clothes because of my background. i'm pretty simple that way. around school, i usually wear my standard gryffindor robes. i wear a lot of tennis shoes and flats and things. i carry a willow wand, 12 and a half inchs, a single unicorn hair, details engraved into the wood and my initials are in tiny little letters at the bottom. my dads requested my initials when i first bought the wand back when i was only just turning eleven.
isabelle kaite, the style
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living is easy with eyes closed,
misunderstanding all you see [/font][/color][/b][/i]
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[/color]i guess, in terms of how i present myself to others, all i really have is my personality. some girls are drop-dead-gorgeous, they can go off their appearance alone. i am not one of those girls. i'm just... well... i'm just izzy. i have to rely on my personality when i find friends or date or anything else. luckily, i've got a pretty decent personality, if i do say so myself.
others have described me as a go-getter, an enthusiastic kind of girl. in reality, i'm just a bit of an over-achiever. i like doing well in class, on the quidditch pitch, during contests. i just strive to do well. i want to be successful and go somewhere with my life. is that really such a big deal? i get good grades in my classes and i push myself, proving that determination can get you anywhere in life as long as you want something enough to reach out and get it.
i try and be diverse, show that i have an open mind and can see different sides of things. i pride myself on being the girl who will give an honest opinion of something and tell it like it really is. i'm real with people and i'm real with myself. i can accept myself. that's a lot for girls my age. most girls can't even really figure themselves out!
i'm kind of a dreamer. i'm the creative type. i love to get lost in my own thoughts. sometimes, it feels like my mind is this sort of playground where everything is meant to be explored and examined. it makes life more fun and more interesting. i love to draw and write and read. i'm also quite the performer. i love to sing and dance and act. as far i'm concerned, life is a show and we might as well make it big. i wish that, like the muggle world, the wizarding world would dive into theater more. i guess that's just not a top priority around here.
i can be really silly and goofy and wacky and kind of insane. i have those nights where i'm just hyper and childish and wild. i love to be in that sort of zone where everything is just ridiculous. it helps remind me that not everything in life needs to be taken so seriously. yes, we are living in trying times, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be allowed to laugh, to dance, to be free. i strongly support those feelings of light and happiness.
because of that goofy side, i do find myself giving in to a less mature part of myself. i often times make poor choices or let my temper get away with itself. i fall into bad, naive situations. i am terrible to have around during an emergency. i'm the girl who is overly emotional and prone to crying. i know that can be bad, but i can't really help it. i'm only human. i take things to heart more often than necessary and i'm really bad at taking negative criticism. i hate it when other girls gossip about me or say bad things because it turns me into this entirely self-conscious mess. i literally just feel like hiding and not dealing with anything.
i run away from problems rather than confronting them. i will stand up when necessary, but i despise my own problems. i'm a great listener and i give brilliant advice, but i can't follow my own example, ever. it's just too hard for me to really grasp my own life on that level.
i'm really social. i like having friends, i like talking to people, i like being part of things. i love to join clubs or teams and try new things. i love just knowing so many people. i mean, it's a great feeling to be able to walk through this school and say hi to half the people and have them know you back. i get some secret high off that feeling.
because of everything i am combined, i can be seen as kind of eccentric and weird. i don't mind it though, it's just me. other people say i'm sweet because i try and keep a positive mindset and i give anyone and everyone a chance. i sometimes trust too easily. i sometimes care too much. i sometimes interfere when i shouldn't. i guess, that's just who i am. i don't think i could ever change for anyone but myself.
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all the lonely people, where do
they all come from?
all the lonely people, where do
they all belong? [/font][/color][/b][/i]
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[/color]“in order to understand, you must first look into the eyes of the one who created you, who made you who you are.”
I was born on September 13th. It was a quiet night in a small town in England. It was the kind of town that no one had heard of or cared about. It was the kind of place where everyone knew each other and everyone liked to talk. My mother’s name was Tansy Wilkes and she was only fifteen when she had me. I never knew my father’s name nor will I ever ask. I don’t really, fully, understand the past, but it’s there and it exists. She exists. Tansy exists. Someday, maybe, I’ll meet her and I can look into her eyes and see and finally understand how she could really let me go. But right now, I just have to accept it all as it is. It’s not the end of the world. So, Tansy gave me up? That was for the best. A young mother who had no idea what she was doing handed over me, a tiny little dark eyed baby girl, to a couple in the dead of one October night while the rain poured down on the streets of London. And that was when I was placed into the arms of people who loved me and could raise me to be who I am now. That was when things took a turn for the better, not the worst.
That couple was Jacob Robin and Oliver Kaite. Yeah, my dads. They’re an ordinary, muggle, gay couple and they’re two of the most caring, creative, and interesting people alive. Jacob was always the more nurturing of the two. From the moment he laid eyes on me, he said he loved me. Oliver was always so strong, so open-minded, always searching for the best for me. They both just wanted the best for me. They wanted a child, a little girl. And Tansy had found their number in a newspaper and hadn’t needed much time to decide on what she should do. When Tansy gave me to Jacob and Oliver that night, she handed them a single envelope. They wondered, at first, if it would be address information so they could write to her, but it wasn’t. It was a letter to me, a letter I wouldn’t receive until I turned about fourteen and they told me that my biological mother had left me something. Inside that envelope was a single photograph of her holding me in the hospital and a letter she’d written to me.
My Child,
I don’t know your name. For a while, I gave you a nickname, Izzy. I suppose, this family will give you a real, proper name. Maybe they will take that on though. I really don’t know. I guess, I’m just writing you this letter so that, someday, when you grow up and you ask them who your real mom was, you can know the truth. My name is Tansy Wilkes and I ask that you please don’t try and look me up and find me. Just leave me be. Giving you up was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I know you probably think it was easy. I know they probably made it sound simple. I am young, I cannot handle raising a child, but I love you. And I want you to know that. It’s hard not to love you. When I gave birth to you, you cried. The moment that we locked eyes and you saw me, you smiled. With that smile, I knew how hard it would be to let you go. And I also knew that, to give you the best in life, I would have to let you go. I hope you grow up to be as beautiful and amazing and wonderful as you were that moment we locked eyes the first time, the night of your birth. You deserve it. Never let anyone take your smile from you.
Love always,
Your mom
The first time I read it, I cried myself to sleep. It kind of scared me. She looked just like me. Now, going into my fifth year, about to turn fifteen, it really frightens me. What if I end up like her? What if I get pregnant and have a baby I can’t raise? That scares me more than I can ever tell anyone, even my dads. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. I need to go back, back to the beginning, the way I was raised and how Jacob and Oliver brought me up.
They did their best. We faced diversity, our family. We lived in London so, it wasn’t as if people weren’t used to unconventional families or something. We lived in this perfect little townhouse in a nice, safe neighborhood. My grandma, Marigold Robin, lived right next door to us. She would come and baby-sit me as I grew up. She was a sort of mother figure in my life, a woman I could look up to. And she was accepting of Jacob. Oliver’s family was not like Marigold. Oliver’s family had created distance between themselves and him. They didn’t keep in contact, they didn’t come to visit, they didn’t even want to see me after the adoption was finalized. The only person out of the Kaite side of the family who stayed around was Aunt Amelia. Aunt Mia was the best. She and Oliver were twins and she was this wild, crazy woman. She taught me to bring out my silly side, my goofy side. She told jokes and played guitar and sang with me and danced with me and let me be anything I wanted to be. She lived with us, in the spare bedroom. She’d been sort of exiled from the Kaite family as well and had decided to stick with her brother and his husband and me. We became her family just like she became part of ours.
My dads had this love and passion for life that constantly inspired me. Oliver was an architect and wanted to create the most beautiful buildings and designs anyone had ever seen. He was good at what he did. He wanted his designs to go down in history some day. Jacob took a quieter root. He worked as a costume designer for a theater company in London. It was a less known, more modern theater company, but a good one nonetheless. Jacob would take me with him, all the time, and let me play in the theater and sing and dance and meet the actors. I became a little theater junkie before I could even really act in a show. When I was younger, the actors and actresses sort of saw me as their pet or something. They would play with me and sing with me and let me feel like I was part of their little club. I was so inspired by them all. They helped give me my drive and determination. They helped shape who I am. I loved them for it. I loved them for treating me like I was much older than I was.
“the years will tick by faster than you can count them.”
I was only ten years old when Marigold was diagnosed with breast cancer. They knew she was ill, they knew she was old, they knew she wouldn’t be able to fight it. I remember her telling me, as I sat there in her kitchen sipping tea and doodling on a sheet of paper. It was mid-Summer and she had all these fresh flowers on her counter. She told me, as if it was a secret, “I’m dying. They can’t help me. And I don’t want you to fret or get upset. I don’t want you to cry Izzy. I want you to be strong and you can cry, but then you have to let me go. I will be with God and I will see you again some day.” And, within weeks, she was permanently hospitalized. My dads were heartbroken. Even Mia had grown very attached to Grandma Marigold. At the funeral service, I wrote a song and played it for her. Mia played her guitar for me. I remembered what she had told me, about letting her go. I had to listen to her advice. It was the last wish she had given me.
And before I knew it, it was the Summer before my 11th birthday. I had always gone to these fancy private schools my dads had found in London, but then, a special letter had arrived carried by a wizard. I was invited to come to Hogwarts and learn magic. At first, my dads were quite curious and somewhat fearful. It took some persuading that what the wizard was saying was true. When they realized what I could so, the magic that was in me, they knew that not letting me go would be a mistake. I would be missing one of the greatest opportunities of my life. So, they said I could, of course go off to a school of magic and learn with other witches and wizards. I remember beaming up at them, assuring them that I would make them both proud.
My first trip to Diagon Alley left me mesmerized. I was so intrigued by everything the magical world had to offer. My dads too were fascinated by it all. The three of us spent hours in the bookstore just learning about this entire world we didn’t existed until that letter came. They knew that they had made the right choice, that they were opening up doors and opportunities for me. They wanted it for me.
I remember saying goodbye to everyone. I had to go to the theater and tell all the actors that I wouldn’t be back until the Winter Holidays because I was going to a special private school that was really far away. A few of them even cried when I said I’d be gone so long. They really cared about me. They were like the relatives that had shut my dads out. They were our extended family. And Aunt Mia was intrigued by the truth. She was astonished at the fact that witches and wizards existed and she was devastated that I was leaving. She would miss me, I knew.
Everything I knew about the school, I had learned from books and stories. When I got on the Hogwarts Express for the first time and I got to meet other witches and wizards, I learned about the things that books couldn’t tell me. I knew, right away, that I wanted to be in Gryffindor. I wanted to be brave and adventurous. Part of me felt like, by being sorted into Gryffindor, I might make my grandmother proud. When the sorting hat blurted out my house, I felt so warmed and proud. I felt like I had done something worthwhile. I felt like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. I even felt like I belonged.
“amidst all these wasted hours, we exist with wildly beating hearts and beautifully misplaced expressions.”
My school years moved forward and I learned more than I ever would have imagined before. Back home though, things were becoming more and more rough. My dads wrote to me almost every day. Aunt Mia, for my first two years of school, had done the same. By my 3rd year, she had become distant and her letters became shorter. In my 4th year, I could tell something was wrong. Just this past Summer, I found out from my dads the truth behind Aunt Mia’s distance. After I had gone off to school, she had lost something that had been really important in her life. My being there gave her a reason to try and be a good example, a good role-model. After I left, she had lost herself. She started down a path that I didn’t know she had ever even been down before. Aunt Mia got caught up in drugs and drinking and partying and staying out late with all the wrong people. She stopped caring what happened in her life, she stopped caring how she treated others. I was this anchor in her life before, this stability, and when I left, she floated away into a place that we didn’t know if we could ever get her back from. Oliver felt destroyed by it all. He and Jacob had to do something, they couldn’t just let her live there and kill herself with all she was doing. Oliver contacted a facility in Ireland that agreed to take Amelia in. Soon, she was sent to recovery. When I come home now, we have to make plans to go visit her, to help her heal. She’s not the same anymore. She’s a different person now. But she’s trying to get her life back and I can understand that.
So that brings us to the here and now of things. I am going into my 5th year of school and I will be 15 in a matter of days. I have friends and a blooming social life. I don’t really talk about home all that much because people give me funny looks, but I am proud of where I come from. I am proud of who I am. Maybe, someday, the name Isabelle Kaite will mean something to someone and I can look back and know that I changed a life or two. For right now, I’m just sort of trying to deal with everything. I’m still trying to handle grandma being gone and Mia being in re-hab. I’m still trying to be okay with how far away I feel from my dads. I’m still wondering if I should try and track down Tansy some day. I’m still following all my dreams and chasing every little thing my heart wants. I feel invincible, unstoppable, and amazing. I can do anything as long as I want it enough and I’m not afraid to want. My name is Isabelle Kaite and I’m going to change the world someday. Will you be there when I so?
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take these broken wings
and learn to fly[/font][/color][/b][/i]
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[/color]my name is tippy, and i play isabelle kaite. . i also play savannah & silas ashford. i’m nineteen, 20 on july 27th, and i’m in thepacific time zone. if you need to contact me please use they should be listed on my profile. i have aim, msn, yim, email, and standard pm. feel free to use any, i don't mind. oh, i forgot to mention, i love you guys, pfft. now that you know me and my character are totally awesome, let me let you read this application in peace.
[/color][/center]this application was made by kim of `nox! don't steal or she'll stick her manwhore draco on you(; && credit to the beatles for the lovely lyrics!
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