Hihi jooooonie joons,
Ugh only Tuesday? I wish it was the weekend already. Work hard, play harder… But I can’t play when people expect legit sh*t from me, that’s just how it is. Can’t get away with a semi-hangover when reality is ready to kick your ass.
At least that’s what my pedar (father) always says. According to him, “Farrah, you should only go out vonce on de veekend othervise you vill be too tired to get your vork done.”
Um yeah, thanks Baba.
“Ter-ust me, I know best dige.”
Did I mention that my daddy goes out to play ALL WEEKEND. In fact, he has weekly ping pong (wtf) and poker nights.
My Irooni father is like MOST Iranian/MidEastern fathers- he “knows best” therefore, I better do exactly what he says otherwise I’m basically going to suck at life.
If S&F has been ANY indication whatsoever to you, I don’t exactly listen to my Baba and I made it pretty clear after high school, because unlike most Irooni children, I didn’t go straight to college. I didn’t know what I wanted to be– I only knew that I DIDN’T want to be a lawyer, doctor or engineer.
So much to my parent’s horror, I went to junior college. Which they NEVER talk about even to this day– but I will be the first to admit:
If I hadn’t gone, I would’ve never gotten into a great university. I would have never scored a legit job.
Most importantly, I would’ve never “found” myself.
I can understand my father’s fear- he is a Stanford and Columbia University Alum- so imagine how HE felt when his firstborn didn’t exactly follow in his footsteps (this is why he loves my brother more than me … uhhh jk….). How was he going to explain this to a community that is ready to judge your “shortcomings” at the first sign of potential “failure?”
** Calm down, I don’t consider myself a failure.
But junior college taught me responsibility and motivation. I was unmotivated before JC, all I cared about was partying and boyfriends– and JC allowed me to realize my passion. You would think that would be enough for my pedar… but no. He wasn’t happy until I got into UC-X, and even then- he was angry at the world that I was a history major.
“Vell, maybe you go to law school.”
NO. Journalism school, Daddy.
“CHI?! TO GHALAT KARDI! You HAVE to listen to me, I vill not pay for dat… you do vat I say.” (Translation: Listen or die).
So I went to college, worked for the school newspaper (Baba joonam doesn’t talk about that either) and when I finished my LAST final as an undergraduate, I called my dad to celebrate and he says, “Vell, it isn’t exactly your last final because you still have ger-aduate eschool.”
Way to be a major fucking buzzkill.
So after graduating, my dad started his official campaign to get me to consider LAW SCHOOL. Fortunately, he was really bad at it.
“You can be a politician if you go for your Master’s degree.”
Ew. F*CK THE POPO!
That was never going to happen, so I made a deal with the devil. I asked Baba to give me a chance to pursue what I wanted and if it didn’t work out, then we could talk options — not law school… but maybe graduate school for something that would make ME happy.
So when I wanted to move away for an internship, he flipped out. I had to literally give a presentation on all the benefits of leaving our shitty ass hometown. And even then, it wasn’t until my stepmother gave him a stern talking to that he finally gave in.
But that wasn’t all. For the next seven months, he called me everyday and said if I didn’t find a job, I would have to move back in with him.
I didn’t sleep through the night for seven months because I was so stressed out.
I applied to over 50 jobs. When it came down to it- I couldn’t JUST get a job that paid the bills, I had to make it so my daddy joon would finally LET me pursue my dreams without giving me a panic attack every time we talked.
When I finally got a job (at an organization he actually APPROVES of), I’m pretty sure the man cried. His once “fuck-up” daughter just scored a legitimate job that he could brag about to all his friends.
But here’s my point, my dad always said that he knows best. Even now that he has nothing to lecture me about, he still tries to find things to nit-pick over because “it’s his job,” he has the need to feel relevant- important in my life even though I’m doing something that he has absolutely NO experience in,
“Farrah, is your room clean? It is alvays important to be neat because then you vill be organized in all aspects of your life.”
My room is a fucking shitshow … as is my desk at work– no one has complained yet and I still get shit done. (KNOCK ON WOOD…)
“Farrah, make sure you go to the gym- it is important to vork out, you don’t vant to get fat.”
I went to Pilates today, and hit up that pizza buffet next door afterwards. What? It was my REWARD.
Our parents are always going to argue that they know best, and honestly if my dad didn’t bitch at me half as much as he did while I was growing up, I probably wouldn’t have worked as hard to get to where I am now– but that also doesn’t mean that everything he said was right.
Just because you want to pursue something that isn’t Persian approved doesn’t make you a f*ck up, and it doesn’t mean that you won’t be able to achieve it.
My Baba wasn’t trying to be a dick… he was just scared for me. He’s terrified at the thought that I might not be able to take care of myself once he’s gone. It scares the shit out of him that I want to pursue the unknown and what’s worst is that MY excitement over the unknown causes HIM stress and anxiety.
Fact of the matter is, my pedar is still the first person I call when I do something right at work- even if it it’s as insignificant as learning how to use Outlook (why don’t they just use gmail…).
So while our parents inflict an insurmountable amount of pressure to be the “best that we can be,” fuck it— DO WHAT YOU WANT. At the end of the day, YOU’RE the one who is going to have to live with the choices you made… you’re the one who is going to die with/without regrets.
As a friend once told me– If I listened to my father and didn’t take the risks that I did, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
So is your pedare aziz as harsh as mine? I wanna hear all about it (honestly, it just makes me feel better).
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Follow me on Twitter if you’re a “fuck up” too: @Farrah_Joon