Fret not, romantics of the world, the old story of passion over reason can still have a happy ending. Every melodrama needs a sad person. That sad person was me, sitting in the guidance counselor's office, unable to repress the tears from my eyes. Next to me, sat my mother, shaking her head disapprovingly, trying to calm me down as to not further make a scene. She repeated her sound proof to me, as if her righteousness could pacify me, but it only made me cry harder. I knew she was just trying to make sure I would make good decisions, but her unwillingness to accept my choice was heartbreaking.
It was the eighth grade, and I had to decide which high school I would be moving on to. I had been accepted into both *name* and *name*. My mother assumed what was best for me, forcefeeding me her own opinions. She wanted me to go to the school with the better name, certain that the school with more academic prestige will insure a better future for me. Despite that, I rejected her choice. I wanted the more diverse and more open music school, with its charming eccentricities and curious quirks, the school that I fell in love with. Even through threats of being disowned, I remained unmovable in my decision.
Independence empowers individuals by allowing them to make their own decisions about their life. I first tasted independence the moment I refused to bend to the will of my parents by choosing something different for myself. However, personal independence also carries the risks of personal responsibility. I passed the final judgment, and I would have no one else to blame if it led to a horrible outcome. Nonetheless, the risks in my choice were painstakingly obvious; were I not to go to the brainier school, I would lose opportunities that would perhaps help me get into a more renowned college. Indeed, I had lost that advantage.
In the end, going to *name* instead was completely worth it. It allowed me to dedicate three whole periods everyday to pursuing my passion, learning about and performing music. Some of the most unique and talented individuals are my classmates and friends; I come in contact with remarkable people everyday. Their multifarious opinions and viewpoints, spanning the entire spectrum, have enlightened me by exposing me to unfamiliar ideas. I leave this school a more worldly and cultured person. My experience in * name* has been fun, eye-opening and entertaining. Luckily, my first major decision, placing love above propriety, resulted with me happier than I believe I ever could have been in *name*. Brand names aren't everything after all. This is my Romeo and Juliet story, which ended rather nicely, especially with the exclusion of me killing myself.
It was the eighth grade, and I had to decide which high school I would be moving on to. I had been accepted into both *name* and *name*. My mother assumed what was best for me, forcefeeding me her own opinions. She wanted me to go to the school with the better name, certain that the school with more academic prestige will insure a better future for me. Despite that, I rejected her choice. I wanted the more diverse and more open music school, with its charming eccentricities and curious quirks, the school that I fell in love with. Even through threats of being disowned, I remained unmovable in my decision.
Independence empowers individuals by allowing them to make their own decisions about their life. I first tasted independence the moment I refused to bend to the will of my parents by choosing something different for myself. However, personal independence also carries the risks of personal responsibility. I passed the final judgment, and I would have no one else to blame if it led to a horrible outcome. Nonetheless, the risks in my choice were painstakingly obvious; were I not to go to the brainier school, I would lose opportunities that would perhaps help me get into a more renowned college. Indeed, I had lost that advantage.
In the end, going to *name* instead was completely worth it. It allowed me to dedicate three whole periods everyday to pursuing my passion, learning about and performing music. Some of the most unique and talented individuals are my classmates and friends; I come in contact with remarkable people everyday. Their multifarious opinions and viewpoints, spanning the entire spectrum, have enlightened me by exposing me to unfamiliar ideas. I leave this school a more worldly and cultured person. My experience in * name* has been fun, eye-opening and entertaining. Luckily, my first major decision, placing love above propriety, resulted with me happier than I believe I ever could have been in *name*. Brand names aren't everything after all. This is my Romeo and Juliet story, which ended rather nicely, especially with the exclusion of me killing myself.
