When truth kills

My grandma took the inexplicit route of telling me that she hopes I become a doctor, and it’s this inexplicit manner of expressing an intention that hurts the most,

because the intensity of it all just blows up.

I don’t want to be one, but she’d be so proud to see me in some labcoat working my guts out. (I do not mean it in a cynical way)

The negative externalities of me not becoming a doctor shouldn’t be stopping me from doing what I like, but it’s just too hard for me to disappoint her, or anyone else for that matter.

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