My parents and I have differing definitions of what it is to be “successful.” Their definition focuses more so on money and status, while mine focuses more on happiness and fulfillment. (This isn’t to say that money is a non-issue for me. On the contrary, the amount of college debt I’ll have to begin paying back 6 months after my May 2014 graduation keeps me up at night, but I digress.)
Obviously, this discrepancy leads to a rift in our relationship: They constantly question and undermine my goals, which results in my getting defensive. I mean, wouldn’t you be defensive if the two people who fed you the “we’ll-support-you-in-whatever-you-choose-to-do” spiel on a regular basis tell you that your dreams are stupid? I know that they just want me to have a better life than they had in the old country, but will forcing me into something I have no interest in really be the ticket to that? I don’t think so.
What my parents should’ve said all those years is: “We’ll support you in whatever you choose to do, so long as you become a doctor/lawyer/engineer.”
Regardless, I’m going to keep trekking toward my ultimate goal of being a professional screenwriter under the icy, disapproving stares of my parents. My dreams will keep me warm.