Finally Breaking Life’s Rules

From a recovering abider of rules—a late rebellion

Yes, I ‘lived by the rules’ most of my life.

I feel like I’m admitting to something horrible, akin to murder, especially considering this audience of free-thinking writers.

It just feels so damn ‘conformist’ to even put this out there, and this in the past tense. Yes, it’s my truth, and sometimes we divulge what feels unattractive, even to ourselves.

Historically, if there was a rule that was deemed the ‘proper way’ to be or to do, then I would pick up the habit of that rule and abide by it.

I was so accepting of this state, that I wouldn’t necessarily even question the logic behind the assertion. There were rules, and I followed them.

The perfect drone. Trying to get ahead, not make waves, fit in, abide, hopefully succeed…

In certain households, we grow up trying to be perfect. Being perfect is safe, or in my case, it’s how we put less stress on our parents.

It’s a way of even at a very young age, contributing to the family dynamic by being the one who’s no trouble, who parents don’t have to worry about with their grades. Who’s self-sufficient.