I feel like I’m giving into peer pressure by writing this
blog post. After a slight nudge from a good friend **cough, Brittany, cough** I’ve been guilt tripped in to writing a
post, so what better topic than peer pressure?
Peer pressure is something I’ve always struggled with. If my
friends were doing it, there was a 99.9% chance I was going to do it too. Hence
the reason for the following: Drinking Barbie beers and thinking I was wasted
beyond all wasted after 1 (little did I know that there was more alcohol in my
Grandma’s Nyquil), smoking (one time offense), teenage sex, which lead to a
teenage pregnancy, (note: most of my friends were smart enough to avoid the
pregnancy part) teenage marriage, a tattoo, piercings, seeing Twilight at midnight, and my obsession
with Arrested Development ….not complaining about this one even a little
bit. “There’s always money in the Banana Stand”. The crappy thing is, that I knew better. I just thought I was invinsible- that I wouldn't get caught, that nothing bad would happen to me if I always had a good cover up. My parents didn’t raise me to run out and get a tattoo the second I had an ounce of freedom, and I can promise you this much, my dad would be more mad about me seeing a Twilight movie, than a strange piercing. In no way did my parents expect perfection out of me. Hell, they were just happy I wasn’t a theater geek like my cousin Brady. But they did expect me to be a little smarter than I was.
I turned 29 this year and it kind of forced me to look back on all of my dumb choices in life. Why couldn’t I have been one of those kids who KNEW who they were? They didn’t need to try smoking to look cool; they didn’t need to go see a stupid movie about a Blair Witch, just because “everyone” was doing it! They just made smart choices, and they were happy. It didn’t matter that they were missing out on R rated movies, or parties with booze, they were perfectly content with their Kool-Aid and spin the bottle parties.
The good news is, I’ve somewhat learned from my mistakes. I rarely give into peer pressure like I use to, and if I do, it’s usually for a good reason, like writing this blog post, or running to the store on a Sunday because I’m the only one who will do that in my family (#dogooders) I wouldn’t be who I am today had I not been a stupid teenager with raging hormones my Jr. year of high school, because I wouldn’t have my incredibly talented and witty 11 year old son Carter.
My only hope as a parent is that I can teach my kids to make better choices than I did, and to teach them that it’s ok to be who they are, even if it means they’re the only one not smoking, or going to a crappy movie. I want my kids to have the experiences I missed out on; I want them to be planning their college life, not a wedding, their senior years. I’ve highly considered making them live in a bubble until they’re 22 or so, then setting them free to the world, but after I thought about it, I decided I really don’t want them living at home with me when they’re 22. I want them to know what is right and what is wrong, and know that they have their whole life to be adults and do adult things. You only get to be a kid once; I’d give my left boob to have the easy life of an 11 year old again!
No comments:
Post a Comment