CTHB

The really twisted and pathetic thing about this is that I'm punishing them for their expectations. They had great dreams for me: be an engineer, be successful, be a responsible dad or something like that. At least that's what I think their dreams for me were. I'm pretty sure about the first two.

Up through high school, I was a pretty good student. I may not have been near the top of the class, but I managed at least 85th percentile. I had extra-curricular activities up the wazoo. I had over 40 credits to my name, where only 30 was required to graduate.

At Cornell, I was never better than a B or B+ student. I had one or two classes that were A's. I was on academic probation for a semester. I had a Pass/Fail class converted to a letter grade because the letter grade I got was too low to Pass, but was high enough to prevent me from graduating on time. I was not a model student.

I was angry. University was a strange time for me. I learned a lot beyond the books. I also didn't learn enough, but that's an assessment I've put on myself. Like it matters. Either way, the result is that I grew tremendously as a person, but at the cost of my studies.

I'm convinced I haven't actually "grown up" yet, nor do I think I ever will. That doesn't seem like a bad thing.

What I was/am, though, is ashamed of what I did or didn't accomplish. I walked away from my degree after graduation and did nothing related to that field--I work as a computer professional now--except to use chemicals as server names from time to time. For awhile, I got regret from my mom that I wasn't doing anything with my degree, but that petered out years ago.

I still feel like I've let my parents down, though, and that's where I feel bad. My existence had been about living up to their expectations for a long time. I'm not like my cousins or my uncles. I'd go so far as to say that my measures for success are not the same as theirs.

So why can't I stand by that?

This is sounding far more angsty than I had intended, and it's not, really. I have my life. There are parts of it that I really love: the friends, the photography, the prospect of writing (even if I'm not actively doing very much right now), and the food. There are parts that I don't like quite so much: being uninspired at work, credit cards, the torrid cellular reception at my house and office.

But I'm having a great life and I'm not telling my parents about it.

Or my friends.

Or you.

This is a start.