Today I'm going to share with you a (relatively) short look at my life and my family...
I am the only child of two very intelligent and very successful engineers. My dad designs and programs disc drives, while my mom designs the layouts of heating and cooling systems that go into buildings. Both of my parent's jobs are much more complicated than what I just described, but you now know about as much as I do. Sad isn't it? But whenever I do ask, the explanation is so long and I understand so little of it that the information instantly gets lost in the static of my mind.
I will always find it funny that these two very scientific and logical people ended up creating me. An artist. The polar opposite of everything they knew and where comfortable with. Is it fate? Or irony?
I think my parents did a very good job raising me, and I am very thankful for that. They taught me from a very young age to be myself, that being different is not only okay but the way to get ahead in life. When I started showing my artistic side, they would get me anything I needed. Hell, I still get at least one sketchbook a year from them. And they always find really neat ones too!
Like any family, we've had our ups and downs. I'm very much a problem child. Because of my independent nature, I had trouble making friends (and I still do!) and was teased like the best of us. I had a very low self esteem and tended to violently lash out at others if I was nervous or upset. As I got older I gained massive mood swings and a deep depression (both of which are finally under control). They have done as much as they possibly could to help me, and have spent a great deal of money to do so. I've often wondered if I was worth the effort, and they always tell me that I am. Despite all the messes families face, we've been very luck and have only had two really low points in our family life. But today I will be talking about what the highest point of our family life was for me was.
It was my Junior year in high school, I was more or less a C student and did as little of my work as I possibly could. Both at school and at home. I spent most, if not all, of my time drawing and daydreaming; adding to the great strain of tension that tied my family together. My dad had barely spoken to me since my Freshman year, mind you he's a very quiet man, but at the time I was convinced that he didn't love me anymore. My mom on the other hand was very frustrated with me, and I didn't understand why. My grades improved quite a bit after entering my third year, which I thought would please her, but she was still... unhappy with me. I eventually decided that it was because I had no plans for my life after high school, and in a way I was right.
One day, Mom told me to sit with her at the dining table while I was passing by. She looked grim, to put it lightly, and I was sure I was about to be scolded. But I did what I was told and sat in my spot at the table. It was quiet for a long moment, but in my head it was loud. I was running through all the things that she might say. The longer the silence lasted, the more doomed I thought I was. But when my mom started talking, it was something I never thought she would say. I don't remember her exact words, but this is what she told me:
She said she knew. She knew that I was an artist, and that I would always be an artist. She understood now that I would never be an engineer or have any career like hers or my dad's. It was hard for her to accept at first, because financial stability is not a promised thing for artists. And that kind of unknown future really worried her. But she wanted me to be happy. That was all she wanted from me. She'd support me as much as she could, but there would be limits. Graduating high school was necessary, and college was something I really needed to think about. Oh, and she was happy that my grades where getting better.
We where quiet again for a while, I was shocked so it was understandable. But I could tell that my mom was quickly getting tiered of me staring at her like she'd grown a second head. I found my voice as soon as I could. And I told her, "Thanks, Mom."
If this was a fairy tale it would end with a, "And they lived happily ever after." But this is life, and things are never quite that simple. My parents and I have a great relationship now. I'm sure that kicking me out of their house has helped a little bit. My dad is as quiet as ever, but tries to talk to me at least once every time I'm visiting. My mom and I talk often, in person and with email on a regular basis. And I'm finally feeling like I'm headed down my road in life, the future in sight. But most importantly, I'm making my parents proud, and that's all I really want.
...And free food sometimes...
What? I'm poor! Leave me alone! Aaaaaaaaaahh...