To grow up in a house with no fighting is to try a hamburger for the first time without the actual patty; it just doesn’t make sense. I believe in rebellion. I believe that if a child isn’t mad at his or her parents at least twice a month, then the parents must be doing something wrong. And I believe that it is the child’s duty as an individual human being to go against what the parents are talking about and find out his or her own beliefs and morals so as to mature.
Now I’m not talking about rebellion in the sense of breaking the law, going to jail, or running from the cops. I am talking about fighting for what you believe even if it goes against everything you have been taught. This doesn’t mean hurting your parents intentionally, it means finding out who exactly you are and what you are made of.
The components of rebellion that are so striking to me are the maturity that it brings and the obstacles that are overcome. Obstacles in my opinion are an important part of life. It’s in the times when I want to give up on myself that I truly find who I am. These obstacles will not occur unless you make mistakes, and the only way to make mistakes is to go against the rules. Your parents might say that you are immature for the road that you are following at the time, but what they don’t know is in some sick-paradoxical-phenomenon, you are actually maturing through your “adolescent behavior.” Rebellion to me is a synonym for growing up.
I grew up these last two years, and I’m not ashamed to say that I was grounded for a good chunk of that time. But it was my time to discover myself. My parents cooperated in their role by coming down on me, and I executed my lines brilliantly by getting in even more trouble. The play as whole was a tragic comedy that ended with the message of a fable: Be who you are. I learned that who I am has a lot to do with my parents, but it also has whole lot to do with ME. There came a point in my life where I knew that my parents beliefs were not that of my own and I needed to discover what I was made of. Yes, I made a lot of mistakes, ones that I wish I hadn’t. But to say that I regret my rebellion is inaccurate. These mistakes and obstacles that I pushed into my own path have only helped me learn. Although others may judge me, they will never know the significance I received while bending the rules. They are only judging because they themselves have not experienced the maturity of rebellion.
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