Throughout my entire life I have suffered from a terrible ailment, self-titled “independent-dependency.” Since childhood, I have been caught in the middle of a battle between my constant desire to be self-sufficient and the inherent reliance on my parents. Never have these two entities been more at odds than as I completed my high school career. I found myself adrift  in limbo, having outgrown the restrictions of life during secondary education but not yet able to benefit from the freedoms of the college experience.
    The frustration caused by this limbo was taken out (as are many of my frustrations) on those I love the most: my family and, more specifically, my parents. My senior year was riddled with arguments on the topics of curfew, ignored phone calls and disrespectful behavior. Essentially, I felt that at 17-years-old I had reached the peak of self-awareness and intelligence, and by the time move-in day rolled around, I feel confident in saying that my parents were just as eager for my departure as I was.
   The time had come; I was liberated from my childish past and free to take the responsibilities of adulthood head on, or so I thought. It became immediately clear to me that I was woefully unprepared to care for myself. Within the span of three weeks, I ruined an entire load of laundry, received what would be the first of many parking tickets and accidentally skipped an entire day of class. I will forever be thankful for this untimely series of tragedies because it spurred a complete reevaluation of the relationship I held with my parents.
   As I mentioned previously, my poor phone communication skills in high school were always a source of turbulence between my parents and I. My freshman year this changed dramatically. I called both my mom and dad in the morning, in between classes and before going to sleep. My parents were baffled by the increase in conversation, and honestly, so was I. I couldn’t place my finger on why I felt the urge to keep constant communication, but the urge was certainly there. I had never been the child that suffered from homesickness. Through years of summer camps and spend-the-night parties, I never felt myself being drawn back to home, and even in this instance, I would not diagnose the feeling that I experienced homesickness. Looking back, I know now the emotion was a level of appreciation that, prior to leaving home, I had never felt. As I continue to grow older, this admiration has also continued to grow.
    College is the first time that all of the characteristics and habits your parents have encouraged over the years are put to the test. On occasion, you follow the invaluable advice you received in the past, and by doing so you are rewarded with positive life experiences, be it in academics, relationships or the work field. Through these situations, you grow to revere the choices your parents made during your upbringing. On other occasions, perhaps more often (in my personal experience), you choose to neglect your parents’ years of wisdom and make decisions based on your own limited knowledge. In these circumstances you realize the true legitimacy behind your parents’ lessons. You see that the rules they enforced were not to torture or socially inhibit you, but rather to help you develop your own strong set of decision-making skills.
   As a senior, I once again face life-changing decisions, and much like my freshman year, I once again feel ill-equipped to handle the pressure. After four years of learning from mistakes, I still do not feel that I can charge forward on my own, and thankfully, I will not have to. I will have with me a lifetime of priceless wisdom. So Mom, Dad, thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me as I traveled through this portion of my evolution to maturity: total dependence, to defiance and now to utter thankfulness. And after years of denial, it is with a humble heart that I finally admit, “Fine. You were right.”