I’m not sure about you, but when I was going through my teenage years, although I wasn’t your typical overtly rebellious teenager, there was one way in which I think I was similar to all teens.
I never wanted to become like my parents.
Back then, it was unthinkable.
As I have grown older (and probably wiser) I realised that maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.
And now, I find, that I am a lot like my parents. And funnily enough, somthing I never thought— I am a lot like my dad.
I say funny because I was a lot closer to my mum growing up and dad and I mainly had conversations about sport. Yes, we had arguments about cricket in particular, what with me supporting the Aussies all the time. But that was pretty much it. Until I decided to come to Australia. We spoke a lot more about various things including my studies before I left. Once I got here, I talked more to dad over the phone than I probably did in person before. Yes, initially it was the cricket and football. But it began to change. Maybe some of it has to do with the fact that we are both health professionals.
So now, while I look like my mum and I am similar to her in that I can be quite anxious, I like keeping my place neat and clean, I am also a lot like my dad.
I cannot stand hypocrisy. I am all for being honest and upfront. I am not working just for money. Yet, I am a workaholic. I do not like politics within the workplace and do not get involved in the same. I am an introvert. I get road rage like my dad when people don’t follow road rules. I react like him by swearing at the other drivers but in my car with the windows rolled up. I have rules about how I like things to be in my place. I have become pretty strightforward. I do my job because I love it. And I think critically and ask a lot of questions. (Actually, that last point there — I did that ages ago even as a teen!)
Of course, there’s other ways in which I guess I’m not like either of them but that’s because of other things I may have learnt over the years.
My parents may be surprised at how I turned out. And maybe even a bit happy.
I wonder though — is this due to the influence of genetics or environment?
And to be perfectly honest, who cares?
I’m my parents’ daughter after all. And I’m proud of both my parents.
Until next time,