Being a teenager, I wonder about my parents a lot. I wonder why they just don’t understand the situation I am in. Sometimes I even wonder if my parents were even kids. I’m sure they were, they just don’t care to tell me their little stories. Often times, I think parents try to create this “ideal” child in their head, and when the child is not even close to the image they tried to project on what would be a blank canvas, they are disappointed. But why is it difficult to see their child as their own person? I think this is the trouble I face a lot with my own parents.
I believed they wanted to me to be an honor-student-god-fearing-forever-young-superstar. Well, I was the honor student, for a while at least, and I’d like to believe I’d be forever young. But I never wanted to be a lawyer, and engineer, or mother Theresa… So I think to some degree I disappointed them. I want to be a professor, an educator, and most importantly, a good person.
I’ve gone through the usual phases, from “I want to just make my parents happy” to “I’m not a little girl anymore” to “I am so angry at the world” and lastly the “I am just trying to figure this out, but I think I know everything” phase, but honestly, I’m just a kid growing up.
Personally, I don’t think I make it very easy for my parents to understand me. For one, I am pretty private person, and I tend to not let them in my ever growing private world. As good typical parents, they would worry if their child was staying at school almost 10 hours a day, and seeing her face 2 inches away from the computer writing my heart out hours at a time. Although they don’t understand me now, I hope one day I have the courage to show them all of my work and that it all wasn’t for nothing. My parents did help me explore, and to form my own thoughts, and gave me a lot of free will(at least for plausible ideas).
It wasn’t until very recently I made a promise to myself that I was going to be honest with my parents in whatever I decide to pursue. I am coming of age, I can’t hide who I really am anymore, because I am the only one who is responsible for living my life, the way I want to.
First off, I told them I didn’t want to stay in the same state for school, and maybe not in the same country. I also told them I wanted to get a doctorates degree in whatever I pursue, and I didn’t even know if I was going to have kids (very radical I know, but things are subject to change, they always are). One thing I know is understood between my parents and I, and I’m sure for a lot of other cliche dysfunctional families, there is much love for the other. I guess what it gets very complicated.
Parents just don’t understand their kids, kids will never understand their parents either.