And for me, everything academic was equivalent to no work. At all. I breezed through elementary school without any help from my parents. I didn't realize at that age that I was setting myself up for failure. After elementary school, you go to middle school where they expect you to work a little harder. But for me, it was like going from practicing a float to diving in the deep end. All of a sudden, I had homework, an almost foreign concept to me. In a flash, I needed to spend more time on work for a concept I had already grasped. Concepts, ideas, the bigger picture has always been easy for me to grasp. My grades started slipping. All of a sudden, the girl, who my parents had grown to expect to be perfect, began to crack like glass on the verge of breaking. I nearly failed math in sixth grade year. You would think that would make me realize that I had to work, right? No. Because I had never been praised for good work. My A's went unnoticed. My F's didn't. Sixth grade year was when this whole thing started. It was the first time I was compared to my sister. And I'm sure you're all still going, so what? Big deal! I face stuff ten times worse then that. Well, what if your mom, when she talked with you about your grades, compared you to the post perfect being on the planet. Think of a person who you wish would make one mistake just so that you would know that they are human. Someone who is top of their class, super popular, athletic, and musically inclined. Now imagine living with this person being related to you. That is my sister. And so, tonight was another one of those nights where I didn't quite match up to the glorified image my parents have of me. Tonight was another night of me having to sit there with a strait face and listen to their disappointed tones and the concerned and yet quitting expressions on their faces. Tonight was another night of tears. All because I am not who they want me to be. I am a fat, ugly, lazy procrastinator with bad memory and a headache.