I look in the mirror and see my dad, I think about the way I talk and what my humor revolves around, and I see my dad. When I think more about it, I am my father’s daughter.. But is that what I want? I won’t try to deflect when writing this piece, everyone has their flaws, some flaws shine more than others. I vowed to myself that I would never let my dad’s anxiety issues or poor anger management get to me, yet I have little control over that because he’s always around me. I used to think I was my own independent version of myself, a better version of myself but as I grew older and my personality matured I realized that I was just another version of my dad. I told myself when I was young that I would control my anger, not lash out on people when I’m having a bad day, to not get frustrated at minor inconveniences, and most importantly keep a positive attitude. I never stuck to these vows. When reading the story Othello, I felt a weird gut feeling when Desdemona was disowned by her father, Brabantio. She left the life she had for a man who would ultimately take her life in the end. I reflected on this and told myself I would never do that to my dad. I will always appease my father, he is one of the most important people in my life. I always find myself studying till 3 in the morning so my grades are up to both of our standards, so my dad has one less thing to stress about in life. That I am too busy studying at home rather than going out and doing something that could possibly get me in trouble. The more restless nights I had realized that in order for my dad to have less stress in his life when it came to my studies, was also my burden. That I was stressing myself out, my shoulders feel heavy with the workload of sophomore year. How was I already burnt out a few weeks into the semester? This stress made me lack in other aspects of my life especially when it came to my social life, how my attitude was around my family, and my overall patience. This truly made me reflect, am I my father’s daughter? I remember watching ‘Everything Everywhere All at Once’ in theaters, there was this one scene in particular that made me upset. Not upset at the movie just in general, the ending scene in the movie where Evelyn Wang gets into an argument with her daughter, Joy. Evelyn tries to reconcile with her daughter after years of neglect and constant arguments regarding Joy’s choices in life, such as her being gay or the tattoos she has on her arm. Evelyn realized the more she convinced herself that this isn’t her daughter, she would eventually push her daughter away, and that her daughter would no longer fight for her approval. I remember balling my eyes out after watching this movie, not only because I could empathize with Joy, but because I felt like I could relate to her. I am not going to sit here and say my father neglected me because he didn’t, he is a great father and will continue to be. What really stuck with me was the topic of generational trauma included in the movie. I could empathize with the fact it is not my dad’s fault he has no patience or when he gets extremely agitated whenever I drive the both of us to taste tea and I end up missing my turn on Newland Street. While researching this topic and watching ‘Everything Everywhere All at Once’, I realized that it isn’t his fault that he’s this way. He’s this way because he was never shown that patience when he was younger and he was never shown that empathy when he did something wrong. He has little knowledge on the concept of anger management because that’s how he was raised. I laid in my bed, doing nothing but empathizing with my father that he did not have the childhood I was given. Born in a family of poor immigrants, living in an apartment with his sister, mother, and father who was in the military, who had extremely high standards for him. No wonder he gets agitated when I make mistakes. Even with the constant back and forth arguments I have with him, even though he has little patience to put up with me, I will always have that patience for him. I will always love him no matter how many times he yells at me because I switch lanes incorrectly.