I preferred loyalty to my ideals over those of my family.

Academic achievements have always defined status in my family. My grandparents taught my father that a formal education is the only thing that ensures a stable future. Every family reunion was a competition to see which of all the cousins ​​would win the most awards and academic achievements. My family is one of those who believe that your worth is determined by the number of awards and diplomas you manage to amass. Only people who get a job where they wear elegant suits in large offices and have a group of people to boss them around are the ones who have value. My father has a degree in finance and a job where he can brag whenever he wants. My mother graduated as an architect and works at a major agency. Even my older brother began his studies as an economist at a top university.

Then there I was, with a mediocre average, in my brother's words, neither good nor bad. I never failed a subject, but I wasn't among the top students in my class either. I've always been a laid-back guy, which is rare considering the snotty family environment I grew up in. I ignored my family's snarky comments, their teasing about how I wasn't good enough to carry the family name and that I should try harder to achieve something in life. When my parents noticed my school results weren't as good as my brother's, the comments and teasing became more and more constant. But something inside me wasn't intimidated by my family's prideful mentality.

I liked spending my free time with my friends and enjoying life's little joys. It was on one of these outings with friends that I found what I'm truly passionate about: food. Yes, I know it sounds disappointing at first, but I'm not just talking about the act of eating; I'm referring to the entire aspect of food establishments: the aesthetics of the place, the customer service, the presentation of the food, and of course, the flavor. I spent hours and hours talking with my friends about the places we ate and hung out at, so they, I think a little tired of hearing me ramble about food, encouraged me to create a restaurant review blog.

The truth is, at first, I didn't take the blog very seriously; reviewing restaurants and their menus wasn't something that was considered special in my family. So I just focused on enjoying the experience, treating the blog more like a diary of my outings with friends. I wrote about which restaurant was the best for meeting up with friends, which was better for young or old people, for families or couples. I put into clear words how I thought about the quality of the service and the taste of the food there.

Over time, this little hobby began to gain importance. Something that at first seemed like a simple and even somewhat silly idea began to gain significance, like a snowball rolling down a hill. The blog, which initially only received visits from my friends, began attracting hundreds of people who wanted to hear my opinions and reviews. I began to take this hobby more seriously, taking notes and photos of the restaurants I reviewed, and rating them based on the quality of both customer service and food. Without realizing it, these reviews began to influence many others. Businesses in the city would write to me asking me to visit them and post a review of their establishments on my blog. By the time I graduated from high school, this restaurant review blog was a comprehensive gastronomic guide to the best restaurants in the city. It became not only my hobby but also my pride.

Although my parents had known about my blog since I started it, they quickly dismissed it as a silly and unimportant activity. Since it had no connection to academic life, they didn't think it was worthwhile for me to invest my time in it. I only mentioned it to emphasize how I could have better academic results if I stopped wasting time on this nonsense and instead studied harder. Even though my family didn't give much importance to this blog, I still dedicated all my effort and time to it, even if my grades slipped a little or I didn't finish at the top of my class. When I finished school, my parents said without hesitation that they weren't willing to invest in me any longer, that my lack of commitment to my education showed I wasn't worthy of having a good life like my brother, who graduated at the top of his class and was accepted to several high-profile universities.

I moved out of my parents' house with the little money I had saved and shared an apartment with some friends who decided college wasn't for them. I worked at different jobs, but I still continued working diligently on my blog. Until one day I received an email from a famous food trends magazine offering me a space to publish my reviews. I was ecstatic with the news; it was an opportunity very few people get—to be able to make a living doing something you truly enjoy. When I shared this news with my mother during one of our rare phone conversations, she wasn't as excited as I'd expected. With a condescending sigh, she told me to stop daydreaming, that I wasn't ready to be a writer for a real magazine, that I didn't have the proper education for the job, and that I would surely end up getting scammed.

I wisely ignored my parents' comments and focused on this new opportunity, and it ended up being a complete success. My reviews quickly gained popularity, and I became a key player in the magazine. I bought a nice apartment downtown, started a relationship with a coworker with whom I had a lot in common, achieved everything I wanted, and I didn't need a college degree to get it. I was so focused on my life that I completely disconnected from the family drama, until one day I received a call from my mother asking me to attend a family gathering on Sunday afternoon. I expected nothing from them, but they still managed to disappoint me. In the middle of the meal, my mother launched into a speech about how families should support each other, that blood will always matter, and that because of my "unexpected" success with restaurant reviews, it was my duty to contribute to the family's financial stability.

With that ridiculous speech, I understood that my family hadn't changed during these years of separation; they only invited me to this fake gathering because they needed something from me, not because they truly care about the son they've ignored these past few years. As my mother continued her speech, I watched as my father stared at his plate, his lips pursed as if it caused him physical pain to simply be at the same table as me. From all my mother's words, I can understand why my brother still lives with my parents since he hasn't been able to hold down a steady job since finishing college. My father had lost his job due to a change in management, and my mother's salary didn't cover all of their daily expenses and my brother's student debt. They needed money, and I was the only one available to give it.

When my mother finished speaking, a heavy silence formed in the room, everyone waiting for my reaction. Staring at my father, I said, “I spent my entire life listening to the elitist nonsense this family’s values ​​are based on, holding tightly to my own ideals to avoid falling into ridiculous thoughts like yours. That’s why you decided to push me away from your perfect life, and when there are problems your countless degrees on the walls can’t solve, you ask me to forget all the mockery you directed at me. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to help you in any way. You can call me selfish if that’s what you want, but I choose to be loyal to myself and not to a group of ignorant people who can’t see beyond their old traditions.”