My mother complains, but for all the wrong reasons

Every time that I sit down and cry. Every time that I go to my room, under my covers for solace, it’s never because my mother tells me that I’m a bad person; that I don’t care for people or that I do wrong to anyone. Whenever I’m upset it’s not because my mother tells me I was selfish at some point in time or that I broke someone’s heart or that I was self-conceited.
It’s always because I didn’t help her around the house despite the huge amount of school work I have for myself. It’s because I don’t like to communicate a lot because of the work-load and stress of all the extracurricular activities I’m managing at school. It’s because she sees me on my laptop watching a movie or browsing art, never studying.

How am I then achieving things I could’ve never even thought of before? It’s not a lot but it’s something. It’s not the most but I’m getting there.

It goes unnoticed, my efforts, because I only work at night when she’s busy doing her own thing.
I like to work at night and when I sit to study, it’s for hours. But the hours I choose to spare myself are the only ones that go noticed. I vividly remember being compared to the smarter kids at school or in the family as a middle-school child. It was because I wasn’t as focused. Art had caught all my attention. But now? Now that I am sacrificing my one passion I’ve lived for to help my family’s business; where do I stand? Still there.

It shouldn’t matter how well I do at school. But if I am pretty decent then what shouldn’t matter is how I’m getting there.

Emotional Stress.

Maybe I make up for all the 12 hours of being free with all the 12 hours of the night when I can really focus on my textbooks. Maybe I make up for all the times I’m making art or watching art by simply focusing more in that one hour I study. I am getting what they want right? The A’s are the only things that seem to matter, unfortunately, and I am getting them. I’ve always hoped they wouldn’t be. But if they are and if I’m acing, then why are they still finding reasons to criticize?

I can’t get on and do everything. I can’t perfectly fit into everyone’s expectations at all times, I wouldn’t want myself to.

Somebody other than me has got to compromise too. Somewhere, some time.

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