Growing up (the beginning of a rant)
As the youngest child and the only girl, my parents weigh me down with responsibilities that at times seem uncalled for or unreasonable. I am the first person in my family to go to college and soon graduate, and I made the choice to go to school partly on my own and partly because my parents coaxed me into it. Frankly, when I graduated high school I felt conflicted about the next step in my life. I knew I needed to attend college because in today’s workforce we need degrees. I simply remained clueless as to where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do once I got there.
I ended up at VCU (Virginia Commonwealth University) for my first two years of school and absolutely hated it. The massive campus and 400 students in each class scared and confused me. In schools like that, unless we make a massive impact, we exist as another number in the roster. I decided my second year that I needed to move on from VCU and go somewhere that I wanted to go. I read about Randolph-Macon and ate at Suzanne’s with my boyfriend at the time, and I decided that RMC could be the place for me.
I made a difficult decision when I decided to come here because I knew that an expensive school might push me deeper into obligations toward my already overbearing parents. My mom tends to throw guilt trips on me for anything. My dad felt uneasy about the money situation and only offered to pay a minute fraction of the cost. I felt tied to them and as if I must do everything they wanted me to. Unlike other college students, I stayed home out of respect for my mother’s wishes. I also refrained from outlandish partying and worked for the company my mom works for because she wanted me to. Her demands only led me to resent her.