An insight to growing up with strict, foreign parents.
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Student Life

Having Strict, Foreign Parents is a struggle, but i am grateful for their encouragement and support

A sneak peak into the childhood of a girl with incredibly strict foreign parents.

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Having Strict, Foreign Parents is a struggle, but i am grateful for their encouragement and support

The childhoods of each and every individual differ from family to family, if not individual to individual. Some parents are stricter, some are more lenient, and some just don't care. On top of that, you have the in-between parents: strict on some things, lenient on others, and just don't care about the rest.

As for my childhood, I grew up in an incredibly strict family. Both of my parents came over to the United State in their late 20s and were not caught up on the American's lifestyle. Growing up, I resented my parents a lot for the opportunities I was forced to miss out on. For example, my dad never, ever, EVER let me sleep over at anyone's house. People could sleepover at mine but I could never sleep over at theirs. I was always that one child at birthday parties whose parent had to come pick them up while everyone else got to keep on having fun. If I even dared to ask if I could sleep over, my dad would go into a rage and yell at me.

In elementary school, my dad would always yell at me for getting "Bs" on my report cards. He refused to believe that Bs were a good grade, choosing to believe instead that I was doing badly in school. This resulted in spankings, him taking away TV time, and constant berating to do better. Even up to high school, both my mom and dad still believe that a B is a bad grade. One time back in fourth grade, I had straight Bs on a report card and my dad made me get a tutor for the next two years.

On top of this, my parents barely ever let me leave the house. They would rarely let me play outside in front of the house because they weren't able to watch me. If kids in my neighborhood asked if I could play, the answer was usually no. As I got older, kids would invite me to hang out or go to birthday parties and my dad would never let me go. I would attempt to ask and he would never give me an answer. I would be waiting three days for a response from him and even then, it was usually no.

In middle school, my dad refused to let me shave my legs. Even up until high school, my dad refused to let me, stating that it was bad and that I didn't need to. It felt incredibly embarrassing to basically be the only girl in school with hairy legs! My dad was also pretty against the idea of me wearing makeup, even at the great old age of 18!

During my time in high school, my dad never let me skip school. Only when I was sick would he let me and even then, only with a doctor's note, if even. Upon completing middle school, I won an award for perfect attendance all three years of middle school! I really wish that was an achievement I could be happy about.

Furthermore, my parents are total workaholics. They work seven days a week from 8:30 AM to 7 PM. This meant a plethora of missed doctor's appointments, missed dentist's appointments, and a bunch of my soccer, lacrosse, and cheerleading games that they never went to. It hurts to say that throughout the three years of sports I did in high school, my parents never went to a single one. While growing up, I definitely resented this and felt that they didn't care about me. Looking back, however, I understand how important making an income to support the family is. I respect them for their dedication to work and ensuring that we were taken care of.

My childhood seems to be more of things that I wasn't allowed to do than things that I was actually able to do.

However, on the bright side, when I turned sixteen, I got a job. As a result, my dad actually became less strict (barely). I was eventually able to begin to do more stuff. However, there are still certain things my dad refuses to let me do. This includes sleeping over, being out after 11:30 PM, and going out of town with friends. Despite the fact that I am now nineteen-years-old and turning twenty in four months, I am still yet to be able to do many of those things.

However, despite the resent I may or may not hold toward my dad, I can still admit that I had an incredibly great childhood. I was always fed and full, I had a bed to sleep on, a house to sleep in, and toys to play with. My parents, despite their faults, pushed me to be the best person and student I could be. Without them, I never would have graduated summa cum laude and made it as a student at Florida State University. I hope to one day be as hardworking as both of my parents.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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