My parents kicked me out three months after I turned eighteen.
Not because I drank.
Not because I was arrested.
But because I told them I didn’t want to be a doctor.
Both of my parents are surgeons. In our house, medicine was not just a career—it was a destination that had already been chosen for me before I could even speak.
My father used to say, “Our family saves lives. That’s what we do.”
But the truth is, I never wanted to have a scalpel in my hand.
For illustrative purposes only
I wanted a guitar.
