I would start off this letter with the basic saying of “my parents are the hardest working people I know,” but there is more to my parents than such an overused saying. I have always had a complicated time choosing one word that describes my parents “best.” Or even harder, which one do I pick when it comes to the question of who is my role model? I hate those questions because the people who ask them as part of essays for applications clearly do not want to know everything about my parents. And I wish someone would ask me to write a letter sharing all my feelings about my parents. However, I know I am never going to be asked because I am done with the college process. Sad isn’t it? The colleges that are accepting you sometimes do not even ask about your background. I’m not a strong believer in forgetting the past and living in the moment because my foundations are rooted in the actions I have already taken. Anyway irrelevant, let me get back to the point. So, since nobody has asked me, here is an open letter to my parents.
Extraordinary? Spontaneous? Encouraging? Supportive? There are so many strong vocabulary words I can use to describe my parents, and some I may not even know, so how am I supposed to describe them in one word? Easy. I won’t. My parents are not the usual parents. They give me just the right amount of freedom while still limiting me to what they believe is said to be called good parenting. And of course my parents don’t want me to grow up so quickly, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to either. Bills. Jobs. Kids. Houses. Cars. Expenses. All the things I did not consider when I wanted to grow up so quickly. I thank my parents everyday for not letting me walk to school by myself until I was in 7th grade, or letting me cross big avenues, or going out with my friends every weekend because I know myself. and I know for a fact that all of that freedom would have gone to my head. So yes, I don’t care if anyone calls me a momma’s girl because half of my friends wish that had such a close relationship with their mother. And yes, I can tell my dad which boy I like and have a whole conversation about the reasons why I like this boy. Why? because my parents knew exactly how to raise their child so that they would have a great bond with me and still give me some freedom as the years progress. And the best thing is that my parents are basically my friends' parents. They treat my friends as if they are their own kids, so no one ever feels left out around my family. Those are the best moments; the ones I can share with my parents and my closest friends. I will never grow old of my parents. As stubborn as they may be or get sometimes. I value their values, and they hold some of the greatest values I have seen.
Of course, my father is the “bad cop” and my mother is the “good cop.” Or at least that’s how I thought it worked out when I was little. Now older, I can see that I was wrong. Each one of my parents plays both roles; they just take turns that’s all. When it comes to grades, my father will get upset when I do not bring good quality grades to him. For any of you who know my father, his standard of quality grades are basically straight As. I can remember the first time I had received a C in my academic career. It was Junior year in high school, my first AP class, Biology. My father was devastated for days. He did not even finish looking at all my other grades. It completely destroyed him. I was trying to convince him that it wasn’t all that bad because it was my first college leveled class. When I asked why he reacted this way, his response was not what I expected. He told me that he was not disappointed about the actual grade, but moreover because I settled for less and he thought I was better than that. Because all my life, he has taught me how to strive for the best and never become comfortable with what is given. He tells me every single day to imagine if the world’s greatest people settled for less, we probably wouldn’t be here right now. And well this change my perspective on the kind of standards my father held me to. I’m trying to imagine my life with a father that would have let me slide for all the little mistakes I make. I do not think I would be the successful person I am today. So I thank my dad not for playing the role of a bad cop, but for simply being himself and holding his own standards as a father.
As for my mother, she is my best friend. When it comes to vulnerability, my mom allows it. However, she will not allow me to be weak forever. She brings me up back to my feet. As a matter of fact, she has never let me fall. She is the one who taught me how to fight back. Against everything. Against setbacks. Against bullies. Against monsters. Against society’s definition of beautiful because we all know that that’s completely flawed. Yeah that’s right, my mother taught me all of that and more! She was the one who taught me how to tie my shoes and swim. Even though most of my readers may know that I usually ask my friends to tie my shoes, I still know how to tie them. Back to the point. The relationship I hold with my mother is not always rainbows and butterflies. There are definitely some hurricanes and wasps thrown in once and awhile. Alright, maybe sometimes flash floods. But you need some rain in order to see rainbows. This is not metaphorically. Literally, rain droplets propel certain color spectrums when light is shined through them. Anyways, my mother was there to clean up my tears from my first boo boo to my first "heartbreak" to my first college denial. But she was also there to share the smiles of when I did my first cartwheel to hitting my first home run to getting my first college acceptance. If I had to go through hell and back with one person by my side, there's no doubt that my mother would be the one I would choose.
Lastly, I want my parents to know that I am choosing to go away for college. So I won't be able to stay home and commute. I am definitely going to miss their glowing faces. I want them to know that the reason I made this decision was not because I'm "sick" of them and couldn't wait to get out of the house. Because fortunately, my parents have never treated me so badly to the point where I would think like that. They are amazing, and if anything, I am dying to stay. But I also know myself. And it's not like I'm going to be less successful if I stay home. And hey, it might be different for everyone. I know that if I stay here I'll never be able to prove to my parents that they raised an independent, courageous daughter. Something they have been waiting for since the day I was born. And I guess I've been waiting for this moment too. Am I capable of staying on campus, miles away from the ones that mean the most to me? Am I going to wash my clothes right? How about those freshman fifteen? Am I going to cry and give up when life gets tough or am I going to persevere through it? There's so many questions that are left unanswered that I need to discover for myself. So no. Mom and Dad I'm not leaving because I want freedom. I'm leaving because I want to know if I can even handle freedom. My parents have done such an amazing job at what many others find to be the most difficult thing in the world. All my life I have relied so heavily on them, and when I come back in four years, maybe more because I want my masters, they'll understand why I went away. But I'll never leave them. I'll always be there for them just like they were for me. Always.
And maybe when someone finishes reading my letter they will think to themselves that this wasn’t the best letter and they could probably write a better one about their parents with no flaws. And I bet someone out there will most definitely write a better letter than this, but will someone ever be able to write a letter this great about my parents? No, because they are my parents, and I am their daughter. No one will ever hold a closer bond than the one I have with them. Because no one will ever know what it was like to experience all the memories I have with them. Sure, I shared a some memories with my readers, but will they ever truly know what it was like to live that moment? No, because my mind is my own. And while some people may see my parents as the worst parents ever, I see them as the best. Because they raised me. They are my parents. And I am their daughter.
