A few days back I realized you still secretly hope that I’d pick a career in medicine or law. That life will have good payouts. I’ll lead a comfortable life financially. You’re worried about my future.
I think it’s great that you have such amazing aspirations for me. You believe in me. You think I’d be able to handle that kind of rigorous working environment, and even excel in it.
You never were the kind of dad to impose your ideals though. You might have tried once or twice back when I was younger, thinking that with age, you were the wiser all the time. Things have changed. I can sense that you listen to me, that my words are valued, my opinions of consequence. I can feel you giving me more and more freedom to decide what I want for myself, all the while being there to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.
I’ll be okay, dad. I might not choose the easiest path, but I’ll make sure it’s the most worthwhile. And all the riches I don’t gain in monetary wealth, I’ll have in the returns of my investment in a fulfilling job.