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v. Rebel
This one’s for the good kids.
The good girls with their modest shirts and shorts under skirts.  The good boys with their zipped pants and respectful words.
The ones who bent over backwards to save another. Did their homework. Did all the group projects themselves. Said no to drugs and yes to Jesus. Or mostly no to drugs and mostly yes to Jesus.
This one’s for the kids who missed their chance to have “wild days” of sowing their oats. Who never yelled back at their parents, never came home late, always played by the rules. This one’s for all those good kids who are now adults and the stakes are just too high to go wild, when you have bills and a family and a job you desperately need.
I am one of you. I missed my chance to rebel. My family needed stability and had been through enough turmoil. I decided, deep in my bones, to be a good girl and not make anything harder for anyone else ever ever ever. I would make life easier and better for all the people. I would get good grades, do as I’m told, show up on time, and smile when I was mad.  I would save myself for marriage and stay sober while others drank beer and ate live goldfish.
I was a good girl.
Then I had kids.
And my own beautiful children are teaching me to rebel. Quickly, in the first year of motherhood, I used up every ounce of responsibility and goodness I had artificially created. I used up all my stores, all my reserves. Those kids and their wild selfishness drove me straight […]