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A Letter to Control (12:13 am)
Dear Control, or should I even say dear? It’s probably not an accurate term for something that makes your life a living hell, unless you’re fluent in profound sarcasm, which I am. So, dearest control, let’s have a little chat about self-respect. Such a phrase is so commonplace nowadays, however, people who truly understand its meaning are not. You can tell me all you want that my dress is too tight or my skin is too exposed. Is this really about me, or is this secretly about you? I am not dressing how I do to make you angry, and it is conceited to believe that I do it for anyone but myself. You can lecture me a thousand times over about self-respect, but if I could get it through your judgmental mind that respecting myself has nothing to do with clothing, sex, language, and other people’s perspective on me. It has to do with making choices that support the kind of person I want to be.
Do you want what is best for me, or do you want to protect me past the point of over-sheltered, just because if I step outside of what you think are safe constraints, I will ruin my perfect trophy daughter image? You can tell me that I’m making choices I’ll regret later in life. Oh, Control, you can tell me “this isn’t how I raised you.” Yes. It is. You literally raised me; this is what I’ve become. Here I am, and I am worth so much more than hearing that phrase after making a mistake, small or large, because I make good grades, I work hard, I don’t get involved with drugs, I’m not pregnant. So if I had a dollar for every time I heard that I’m making the wrong choice, I’d have enough money to give you a nickel for every day you wish you could change. Am I going to regret that irrelevant boy I dated at fifteen and that tattoo I’ll get at eighteen more than the career path that will last far longer than a high school relationship and the vibrant color of any tattoo? I can tell you that I’ve learned more about such things than you have, that I would rather have lived a little and lost than made a completely secure decision that will drive me into mediocrity for the rest of my life. I am many things, but I refuse for mediocre to be one of those things.
So, Control, if you say that you trust my decision-making skills, my intelligence, and my ability to use both of them, please start showing it.
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