This Pink Elephant

There’s a pink elephant haunting everywhere I go with my mom. Rebelliously, though, it rears its ugly head and creeps into conversations. It never occurred to me that such pink elephants could be anything but inconvenient, awkward and invincible.

The Pink Elephant is made up of disappointment, regrets, shortcomings and shame. I graduated third of my batch, second honors. I even have a plaque for service, and a medal for loyalty. My mom feels regretful. I should and could have been valedictorian/salu. She should have banned me from debate, the school paper, Spain-WYD-IBYC and outreach. If not outright banned, then at least heavily limited. She feels as if she ought to have impressed upon me the importance of grades, prioritization et cetera.

It’s all very frustrating for me. It’s not like I aspired to be third. (Have I written about this?) Who in the world would aspire for third place when the means to be first are available? Obviously I wanted to be first. My effort that landed me as first in the batch for several quarters is a proof of that. (And she tells me that I said I didn’t dream for first –what comprehension is that? Just because I didn’t sleep, eat and breathed to be valedictorian didn’t mean I didn’t think and dreamed and worked for it.)

And I’m very proud of my extra-curriculars -debate (now a national champion), outreach (needs no justification), ink (if anything could build character the most) and Spain (also does not need explanation). Perhaps I should have balanced more, but that’s my fault. With the chance to redo my high school career, I wouldn’t have cut any of my orgs.

Blahblahblah there I have adequately expressed my feelings.

(Battery’s so low.)

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