When a Good Girl Decides to Break the Rules

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Living the perfect life was starting to feel like a heavy burden. I wasn’t going to turn to drugs or anything wild, but being the “good girl” had its downsides. You see, constantly being good started to feel pretty bad.

I wasn’t special for my goodness anymore; I was just average. What used to get me praise—like being the only one on task—had become routine. While my classmates who were often in trouble got all the accolades for minor achievements, I was left wondering why my consistent efforts went unnoticed. “You stayed in your seat today? Fantastic!” I thought, “I’ve been sitting in my seat for years!”

By the time I hit middle school, I had a piece of fiction published in a national literary magazine, yet the school decided to give the Eighth Grade Writing Award to a boy named Jake who simply enjoyed writing. It felt like a clear message: I was just doing what I was expected to do, nothing more. If you’re always the good one, you blend into the background noise—just another cog in the machine. So, I decided to shake things up a bit.

Now, don’t get me wrong; drugs weren’t on my agenda. My laid-back parents had made it very clear that I could experiment with anything as long as I did it in front of them. So, I had to think of other ways to be “bad.”

When I started my freshman year of high school, I found myself surrounded by a sea of other good kids. I faced a decision: do I work even harder to stand out or just dial it back a notch? The first option meant hours of service and joining clubs with names that only looked impressive on college applications or trendy tees. The latter was a tempting challenge, and I decided to go for it.

One night in ninth grade, I didn’t complete my English homework. I had a packed schedule (you know, the typical overachiever), and I simply fell asleep before tackling Hamlet. The next day, the teacher announced we’d be turning in our homework, and in a moment of desperation, I asked my friend Sarah if I could copy hers. She hesitated, torn between being a good friend and sticking to the rules. In the end, she let me borrow her work, and I paraphrased her answers just in time for submissions.

To my shock, when grades came back, mine was higher than hers. Even in my moment of rule-breaking, I was still “good.” It was a strange feeling, getting away with something I shouldn’t have. I felt a bit smug about it—if only I could have told myself “I’ve got this” back in those days. But honestly, it didn’t feel as rewarding as I thought. Cheating may have worked in that instance, but I knew there were areas where I just wouldn’t shine—like physics or returning calls. Those quirks didn’t define me; they just added some flavor to the otherwise structured narrative of my life.

Now, as I raise my own Type A daughter, I want to encourage her to aim high. But I’ll also let her know that sometimes, it’s perfectly fine to just be okay. If she feels the urge to test the waters and it’s safe, then why not? Just remember to do it with style!

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In summary, sometimes breaking the mold can lead to unexpected lessons about ourselves and what it means to be “good.” As I guide my daughter through the ups and downs of life, I’ll remind her that being herself is more important than being perfect.