From a young age, we get programmed by our parents and teachers to follow certain rules and guidelines. These rules were meant to mold us into people our parents could brag about. Once we broke one of this rules we were called stubborn. Broke two rules and we were suspected to have joined bad gangs. Broke three rules and we were downright termed rebellious. Now at the age of 21, I think about those ridiculous rules and I laugh. Were those rules for my good? Or were they for the good of my parents so they can ‘save face’ in the presence of their mates. How does a piercing make me a bad child? How does a short skirt make me a lady of easy virtue? Dye my hair and I’m a motorpark tout? These rules are tired and I am tired. Tired of living my life for my parents. Tired of not making my own decisions. Tired of not looking how I want to look. I will rather be a rebel and be free than be the perfect child in a mental prison.