A Better Daughter
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” My eyes opened to the familiar sound of the lady singing from my alarm clock. It was two days after Christmas, 8:00 a.m. in the morning. I slowly spill out of bed, very slowly, continuously murmuring, “Why do I have to wake up? I’m not even in school anymore.. ugh..” As I was crawling up the stairs to the dining room, I can already tell by the sound coming from kitchen; my father was very ready to start our day. The major plans for the day were the major elements in my life that could be devastatingly impactful. I still question to this day, if I should have been a bit more obeying to what my parents were saying, or if I chose the right path in life, because I too was an independent individual.
My dad always emphasized the importance of living life actively. He was always saying how once a person stops doing things like playing sports, or performing as an artist, that person is living a meaningless, clueless life. Therefore, as a child, I was given the mission in life to fulfill the careers of ballet and golf.
My mother, who had always preferred raising me the feminine way, emphasized table manners, etiquettes, and proper lady-like behavior. My mom’s dream to become a ballerina was basically passed down to me, as with my dad’s dream to become a golfer. It was so hard weighing the pros and cons of both competitive worlds, until one day I decided it was time I had stood up for something I wanted to do, not something my parents wished for themselves.
That morning, two days after Christmas, was the day I faced my biggest issue. I was in the state of a teenager’s version of midlife crisis. I had experienced a bit of college after graduating high school, and was in a dilemma as to whether I should give college another try, or just like my dad wanted, become a golfer, or as my mother wanted, focus my energy hundred percent on ballet and ballet only.
The day would start off with an early golf...
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