Perfect. What does that word mean? Does being perfect mean good grades, being popular, volunteering, and getting scholarships for colleges in 11th grade?  Well if that is what the word means then it is definitely not me. How would you feel if your parents where the third smartest people in the United States and you were expected to be like them? You would tell me that pressurized was the word I have been looking for, right. I have a passion for drawing. I can be myself and express myself through the pen on the paper. 

     Have you read Harry Potter? I would kill you if you hadn’t It is my absolute favorite set of books. You remember how Harry Potter was when he was like, “Oh people only know me because I was the Boy who Lived.” And Hermione and Ron were like noooooooooooo. You have defeated He Who Shall Not be Named every year. Well I feel like Harry potter. Everyone knows me for being the daughter of the 3rd most smartest people in the world, and not for being myself. Sure, I am not popular but why can’t  anyone not notice me for me.Sometimes people say things that stick with us.
Like if someone tells you that you are never going to be as smart as your parents you are going to remember that for the rest of your life. Well that is enough for today I can hear my mom calling me down for dinner. See you later diary.

As I walked down the stairs, I realized today was the day it was supposed to arrive. Oh no I thought. I was going to get caught. As I came into the vast kitchen, I was already screaming internally.  My mom was standing there with my order art supplies worth $100 that I had bought on Amazon.
“What is this? Why do you have this?” she screamed.
“Mom, it is just art supplies.” I answered.
“What are you going to do  with these? Draw and enter into an art competition, right. I hope you are not thinking about about becoming an artist. You know that you are going to become an engineer.” she hollered.
“Mom, art is my life. I am going to do what I want to do. You know I hate engineering. It is so high tech and totally isn’t me. Remember when you put me in those Java classes when I was in 5th grade. I hated it. I was crying for days.”I said.
“Do you want to be rich and happy or sad and lonely with no money? Be an engineer. You won’t have to worry about money? Becoming an artist is hard. Where would you work? Being a famous artist will take time. You will be left to beg on streets.” said her mom.
“Mom you are the one that always said to follow your dreams and do things that make you happy. When I was young, you said if you are happy you don’t need to care about anything else. Did you mean that? Or was it just inspirational words just to give me inspiration? I am following what you have told me for 17 years.” said Hazel. Our mother-daughter argument went on and on. It was the worst argument we ever had.  We were neck and neck. As my mom argued with me she thought back to the time when she was talking to her sister on the phone about their relationship with their children.
“So how is Hazel doing?” asked Carrie, my sister.
“Oh yah, she is fine. We had an argument about grades. She is in her room crying.” I said.
“Wait…..you guys fight?” asked Carrie.
“Well, yah. I want different things than her and I think I know what is better for her.” I answered.
“Anna and I never fight. I try to let her decide things on her own. I just give her my input. That way I know she will make good decisions. Our relationship is really strong.” Carrie said.
“Hazel and I really don’t have a good relationship.” I said.
“Well, whenever you are in an argument with her, just think in her perspective. Think like her. You might see why she wants to do what she wants to do.” replied Carrie.
“Thanks, Carrie! Remember to call mom to wish her Happy Birthday on next week.” I said.
“K!! Bye.” Carrie replied.
“Bye, talk to you later.” I said as I ended the call.
My mom pondered the fact that I was listening to her by following what she had told me when I was young. She remembered all the times that they argued and turned out that I was right.
She wanted to listen to what Carrie had told her. Think like I was thinking. My mom thought about how I always won the best drawer in the class every year, always were doodling, and how I won 1st place in the Kansas statewide art competition.
“Hazel is going to Art college,” she though.
“Honey,  you are going to Art college. It is what you want to do and maybe I should think about what you want to do not what I want you to do.” she said
“Finally the answer I have been waiting for 10 years. Thank you mom! I promise I will make you proud that I am your child. And that you didn’t take the wrong baby home from the hospital.” I said as I slowly calmed down. It made me feel satisfied that my parents would be proud at me even if I wasn’t their perfect girl they expected me to be.