Good Girl

There aren’t many options for a girl who falls in the middle. I wasn’t an athlete or a geek. I wasn’t an artist or a musician. I didn’t shake my pom-poms along with my butt. I was just a good girl who got good grades and kept her mouth shut. I didn’t date my high school sweetheart and promptly get married the second I was handed my diploma. I’m not shiny enough to attract notice, nor dark enough to be a problem. I don’t have a tragic sob story. My daddy didn’t leave us destitute, and I’m not a victim of a bad neighborhood. I am a middle-America, middle of the road, middle class girl with both parents fussing over their youngest daughter, who has no aspirations or goals. I’ve had every opportunity to succeed- supportive parents, stability, and a strong upbringing. I’m wayward, and everyone looks at me like I’m an alien. My philosophy: how should I know what I want to do with the rest of my life the day I graduate? How am I supposed to know the second I turn eighteen what I’m destined to become? One moment you’re a disillusioned seventeen-year-old with the world at your fingertips- the next? Congratulations! You’re eighteen, and you’re on your own.