That would make people talk. That would draw focus away from my father's political career, and heaven forbid other people live their own lives.
I have no doubt that's how I managed to get one hell of a crush on a professor despite only having met him once in person.
That wasn't sanctioned either.
I’m not gonna say I haven't gone through a rebellious stage. My freshman year in college was the wildest I've ever been.
If you can even call sneaking out a few times to meet the professor who returned the feelings that I felt. That situation had the potential to turn into a scandal, but my parents caught on very quickly. The man was paid off and instructed never to contact me again, and he hasn't.
It wasn't the first time I've realized that my father had power over every single second, every single situation in my life, but it was the time it cut the deepest.
Finding out that someone you cared deeply for was only in it for the thrills of sleeping with a student has the power to affect a girl. It has the power to demoralize her.
I guess most would dig their feet in. They'd fight for change, to insist on being able to make their own decisions.
They'd ask for more, but I'm not allowed. My father would have a coronary if I voiced a different opinion than the one he gave to me.
I shake my head at my reflection. I’m just in one of my moods. Another thing my mother never falters at pointing out. I guess I should just be glad that she hasn’t traveled down that path of complaints yet today.
It's not all bad. I have the material things that I want. I have some acquaintances that I don't just completely despise. There are people in my life I don't mind spending time with.
It doesn’t negate the fact that every decision I make has to be carefully analyzed.
I've gotten very good at assessing a situation. I'm quick to determine whether it would be something that my parents approved of, or something that could be construed in a poor way by any news outlet.
“This is why I didn't want you to go,” my mother says, pointing out the redness on my shoulders. “You know how that's gonna look in pictures, and tonight is a big deal for your father. Tonight is very important.”
I meet her eyes in the mirror. “I understand, Mother.”
She nods, knowing that I'm trained well enough not to argue or fight back. I know not to give an opinion.
I'm like a puppet, and she and my father control the strings. She's so sure of my behavior, so sure of my responses, that she doesn't even notice the sarcastic way I've been calling her mother instead of mom for the last couple of years.
Raya isn't allowed an opinion.
Raya is a good girl.
Raya does what she's told.
Raya thinks of her family above all others.
And I do.
I think that I would be the same even if this wasn't the life that I've been told I'm going to lead.
I'm a nice person.
I'm a kind person.
I do care about the welfare of others.
The unfortunate thing about all of this is that it doesn't seem like there's anyone out there who cares about me, other than how I can help, how I can benefit someone else's career.
It's not only love that keeps me obeying. It's the hope that after my father makes it into the White House, he'll have what he wants.
I have no ideas of grandeur.
I know that he's going to make a run for reelection four years later, but I also know that most all presidents are hardly ever in the news after they leave office.