I was a defiant and self-destructive teenager. My tour on the road less traveled was a bumpy one that ended when I became a college drop out and a teen mother. As I began to get myself together, I spent several years suffering with anxiety and depression. I just did know what was wrong with me. No one around me really understood how to help me, and parents were frustrated by the fact that I just couldn't snap out of it.

It wasn't until I finally sought professional help, and was diagnosed with OCD, which stands for obsessive compulsive disorder, that I began to come to terms with how I came to be who I was. Up until that point, I believed that I was the sole cause of all of my problems. I was defiant, I thought, because I was bad. Doctors, medications, and self-help books made me realize that part of my problem was the way that I was raised, and how my parents reacted to me in my formative years.

I try not to judge or blame my parents for what I perceive to be their mistakes. As a my parent myself, I know that I am far from perfect. For a long time, I didn't want to recognize that my parents did anything "wrong", after all even when I "hated" them, they were still my parents. Once I was able to be reasonable, however, I began to realize that in order to move forward, I would have to come to terms with the fact that some of things they did were wrong.

From my parents I learned NOT TO

1. IGNORE CHILDREN'S PLOYS FOR ATTENTION.

*Sometimes kids can be extremely annoying with their antics designed to get parental attention. Young children bite, big kids get body piercings. Looking back, I realize that my efforts to "get" my parents "goats" were simply cries for attention. Had they just given some, I might have stopped doing stupid things for attention, and focused on doing things worthy of attention.

2. LABEL KIDS.

*My oldest brother was the smart. My middle brother was the athlete. I was the girl and the baby. Often times, I don't think parents really understand how damaging labels can be. From time to time now, I will hear friends of mine label their children, and I confess sometimes to doing it as well to my children, even if only in my mind.

Children believe their parents know everything for a time. If you tell a child, you are an athlete, that child will think of himself as such. In my case, I felt all the good labels were taken. Did that mean I was nobody, or that

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