Do I have potential? Everyone seems to think I have more than I am showing by my work. This is a little frustrating.Mom and Dad, maybe I should talk to you like you talk to me when you are frustrated.

"How many times do I have to say this to you before you will hear me and do what I say? Please stop badgering me. I've already given you my answer, and it's clear to everyone in the family that you don't like it! We don't agree on this subject, but yes, this is my final answer. No more discussion will be necessary."

When I am the one giving these responses you don't seem to like them any more than I like them when you say these things to me. The question is not what, but who is my success all about anyway? I am happy being me.

I know that you have raised me and have given me wonderful opportunities in life to become the smartest person in the world. But guess what, I am not the smartest person in the world! I know this to be a fact and I wish you could accept it. I am not saying that I'm stupid. I know that I must have characteristics of an "underachiever" because this label has been put on me plenty of times. Trust me, I truly think that people believe that about me, and I am sure that I am an "underachiever" at times. So, case closed until I decide to "live up to my potential."

If anyone would listen, I'd like to give you my point of view. When I look around, especially at school, I see the really smart kids, and some of the time I am very jealous of them. I attempt to listen and join in their conversations, but quickly I find myself lost and embarrassed. I stand there feeling invisible and hoping beyond all odds that they won't notice my incompleteness. I like it that they don't seem to act as if I am as dumb as I think I am. I wonder if that's what they think.

When this opportunity, as adults might see it, is finally over, I sigh with great relief. I ask myself why I even stood with them and put myself in that awkward position. I don't need to feel any less smart than I know I am, and at times these are the situations that make me feel stupid. I like the smart kids even though sometimes, to make me feel better, I make fun of them with my intellectual equals. When their names are put in the school newsletter and called over the intercom for their academic accomplishments, a part of me says, "Why couldn't that be me?"

I am not a jock, nor am I as smart as everyone else thought I was in elementary school. I have decided that neither of these facts makes me less of a person. To my parents: I would like you to know that the part of your teachings I have accepted is that I am okay being ME. It was you who told me the most important thing was for me to be myself. You wanted me to be an honest and hardworking person. You wanted me to care about other people's feelings and thoughts. Thank you very much, because this is a big part of me.

I think I have still disappointed you, though, because I am not this smart person that you dreamed I would be. I am average, kind of like you were when you were a kid. I guess looking back that wasn't good enough for you when you were my age. It seems to me that now it has become my job to do what you couldn't do so "we" can feel better about ourselves. I can't succeed for you, and I don't want to feel responsible for your feeling good through me. This doesn't mean that I don't try and that I couldn't do better if I were to work harder. But weren't you told that, too? Couldn't we all do much better if we worked harder?

Try harder, do things faster and work smarter. Isn't this the great American motto? I am doing these things to the best of my ability. Will that ever be good enough?

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Next week: Stop expecting me to be your trophy

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IT! (Private thoughts of the Indomitable Teen) is written by Cecilia Tucker, a licensed marriage and family therapist at the Counseling Center for New Direction in Seminole. Tucker, who has been in counseling practice since 1979, writes this column under the guidance of a panel of teenage advisers, who approve the topics and offer their insights (in exchange for pizza). You may write her c/o: IT!, X-Press, the Times, P.O. Box 1121, St. Petersburg, FL 33731, or e-mail Floridian@sptimes.com.

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