“Well open it!” my friends eagerly chant. Holding in my hands contains everything I’ve been waiting for. Inside holds my future; my life the next four years. Everything I’ve ever worked for all boils down to this moment. The countless hours writing perfect essays seem worthwhile. The personalized thank-you notes to my teacher recommendations served a more meaningful purpose. But most importantly, the fights and tears shed with my parents seem childish. I hear it crystal clear, “Your grades aren’t high enough. No schools are going to want you. We didn’t pay this much money for nothing”. It all seems pointless because right now I’m holding a white envelope with CONGRATULATIONS in bold bright letters.

The battle began my freshman year. Living in the shadows of my two older sisters in college who already had their lives planned out since they were little, I was always the undecided one. Changing my mind from a veterinarian to an astronaut, there were a spectrum of jobs and I was constantly searching for the beginning of the rainbow. My parents would shake theirs heads and badger me with questions. “What are you going to do with your life? Why can’t you be more like your sisters? Aren’t you interested in anything, anything at all?!” After a couple shrugs and rolled eyes my parents stopped. I’m not sure if they gave up or anticipated my mundane reactions.

I never planned on NOT going to college or having a job. I would like one career for a week and then hate it the next. I’m fickle minded – no, a teenager. After yet another debacle with my mom I decided enough was enough. No longer would I sit back and let my parents dictate what I do. It was time to rebel, revolt. Now, don’t take me wrong I’m not a bad kid; my parents just have high expectations that never seem to be fulfilled. Plus, like any other parent they worry. Wanting success and what’s best for their kids come along with being a parent. Still, I let my emotions get me and acted irrationally. Releasing my anger and venting my feeling, my fingers rapidly typed away the best college essay I’ve ever written.

The letter is an indicator of success or failure. Small equaled bad and the bigger the better. I normally dread the long walk to the post office, but today was different. There was something in the air, an electric current connecting my body to mailbox #377 which was normally empty but not this time. Turning the dial left, right, left again, there was a white package. My heart stopped. Could it really be what I think it is?
“Well open it!” my friends eagerly chanted behind me. Slowly I removed the heavy white envelope and a flash of CONGRA caught my eye and I knew immediately. A feeling of euphoria and relief rushed through my body. I was holding my first college acceptance letter. Needless to say, it wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless hours of writing essays, the personalized thank-you notes, but most importantly, my parents. Thank you Mom and Dad!