FUCK WHAT YOU TALKIN' BOUT.

Ithaca, New York

“Trei, I can’t approve of you taking more than one AP class each semester, the load would just be too much on your schedule. Are you sure you want to apply to an Ivy League School? There are plenty of great local schools nearby.”

Nah, fuck that.

Oddly enough, making the decision to ignore my high school guidance counselor was the best thing I could have done. I lived in a household where it was never okay to speak my mind. My parents had their rules and beliefs, and it was my job to abide by those. They paid the bills, I lived quietly and obediently. I was expected to make good grades, wash everyone’s clothes and dishes, and keep our full 1 acre of land tidy—year round, and most importantly, to NEVER question my parents.

If my father felt like I didn’t need to attend my senior year wrestling tournament because the front yard wasn’t cut good enough, I would stay home. If I wanted to go to attend a school dance but his car hadn’t been washed and waxed on time, I would have to decline. If I wanted to go compete in a math competition, I would have to find my own ride. “If you want to go to college, you find a way to pay it.” And I found a way to do that.

I was accepted into Cornell University. I struggle at Cornell University. And I graduated Cum Laude from Cornell University. I accumulated a lot of debt, but it was worth every penny. I left home and lived by my own rules, at my own pace. I appreciate my upbringing and respect my family but I now realize that was never healthy. I could only truly grow and succeed when I had grown enough to accept the responsibility of saying, “Nah, Fuck That.”