Denial Options

[TheSilenceInDict...]

This isn't one of my usual poetic pieces...I actually wrote this for an assignment a while back. Comments greatly appreciated.
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Denial

I worked so hard to not be like them...to be like her. I'm sure most of us have that. We see the many flaws in our parents, and swear that when, god forbid anytime soon, we have kids of our own, we'd never do any of the things they do to us with them. We''ll be better than them, give them more freedom than they're giving us, and let them be their own person. At least, that's what I told myself. I would rise from their old-fashioned ways, and prove to them that all the things that make me who I am aren't so closely tied in with genetics. Hell, you can even say I thought myself better than them. My parents. I always questioned their methods and ways, but I simply just...wanted to stray far away from all that. I wanted to be different so I could set myself apart from them and be my own person, someone NOT like them. Doing something that would without a doubt give me their complete approval would be accepting their wants, their ways, and therefore drag me into following their footsteps. And I couldn't have that.

Piano. My mother loved it. Played it ever since she was four or so I believe. Prodigy? Not really sure. I remember she loved it, and would always play when I was little. She would start teaching me a bit, And soon enough we'd be doing little duets, whether it be performing for friends or family. She sort of forced it upon me. I think that I would have enjoyed it much more if she didn't. It would've felt more of my own choice, and I wouldn't be doing something just because it was expected and required. I started to hate it. I was doing something to only please her, and make her image a bit prettier for others. I was a tool, and I hated it. She forced me to take lessons. At first I sort of liked the idea...wasn't exactly enthusiastically jumping for joy, But there was some interest. Later on I would start to deny the ability to play piano. To admit I played was to admit being a tool, being in my mother's shadow, following right behind. So I set myself apart from it all. Go ahead and ask me if I play piano. Don't waste your time, because I don't.