I know, I know, I know

Sadly, I want everything but for my parents to be able to say, “See, we told you so.”

All I do is guided by that. I am, I guess, still a stubborn teen at 23 years old. I just cannot follow the advice they give, because they may end up being right. Their tips, their experiences, their lessons learned, their warnings make me so angry. Let me make a mistake. Let me fall and stand up on my own. Let me get hurt and let me taste true success that isn’t, in some roundabout way, of your making.

My own pride and insecurities, my inner rebel, my naive belief in a life outside of what everyone expects, or maybe something else altogether, make it impossible for me to want to please them. I cannot stand the thought of the self-righteous smiles on their faces, as their predictions prove true; as life proves tied to the same patterns it has been tied to for generations.

I want to yell at them. I want to have irrefutable proof that I know better, that I’m smart enough to know my way, that everything they think of I have already thought of. I feel smothered and belittled. I’m angry at them and myself that I leave promising doors closed just because they told me to open them.

Get over it, I’d like to tell myself. I can’t, though. I can’t.


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