My parents are offensively old fashioned. I’m sure you know the type.
“Even if I’m wrong, I’m right. Respect my authority because I’m older than you.”
It’s backfiring now because they’ve spoiled my brother over the years and now he’s reached his teenage rebellious phase, no longer their perfect little puppet.
As I sat in my room trying to drown out the yelling and ignore the tears, I started thinking back to when my own relationship with them first began to deteriorate. I suppose I’m the one to blame, for daring to draft my own personality.
It’s been 21 years and they still refuse to accept that I am my own person, with my own values. They can’t understand why I won’t change myself to conform to their idea of ‘right’, and resent me for no longer being the vacant child prodigy they used to parade around.
I know they’re not alone in this. Too many parents have this unrealistic idea of what their children should be – what they should look like, who they should date, what their career should be. It’s this ridiculous yet not uncommon mentality that parents own their children – “I provided for you, you owe me.”
If more parents would just let their kids live their own life, maybe this generation wouldn’t be so fucked up.