My parents were strict. They weren't as strict on me as they were with the others, but my mother didn't want us to get on anyone's nerves... Go to someone else's house and drive their parents crazy. Another thing was they didn't want us to get into a lot of things that a lot of kids - if they're not careful - can slip into.
I study once in a while. But my parents never pushed us into anything. Until we were 18, my mother would make us go with her to Kingdom Hall, and when we turned of age, she let us choose what we wanted to.
By age seven, I used to comb my hair for performances, just pull my hair up into a bun. Granted, it wasn't a very intricate hairstyle. Still, to be that responsible and disciplined at age seven is unusual.
I can express gratitude for the simple act of being able to breathe in and breathe out. I can move away from darkness and depression to light and hope. I can be happy with who I am, not what I should be, or what I might have been, or what someone tells me I must be. I am me, the true me; you are you, the true you - and that's good. That's beautiful. That's enough.