You can't

My beautiful daughter Michaela turned 14 this weekend. She's my oldest. She is a very strong-willed young woman. She makes up her own mind and sticks to it. She's completely unwaivering—it's amazing. It's the exact opposite of me. I tend to mull things over for some time. Ask my husband about the kitchen. It was torture for him. "Do you like this tile or this tile?" I must have taken him to the same granite slab yard five times before I made a decision. And I finally made it without him there—he simply wouldn't go anymore. After I made up my mind, it took a mere two weeks to be installed, exactly 7 months from the first time we started looking.

Me and Michaela (4 yrs old)
Brian Pounds Photography

Michaela, she would have chosen quickly, ordered the slab, and never thought twice about it. This is what I admire about her. She's strong. For the most part I think she was born this way, but I'd like to think I had a small hand in it. The one question I always asked her was: "What do you think?" I do believe this empowered her to remain steadfast in her decisions and help her with cognitive development. And, in true form, it always came back to bite me in the you-know-what. She is a very opinionated young woman.

Next year she'll be going to high school. Is it so wrong that I wanted her to attend my alma mater? At first, when I introduced the idea, she said no. "All girls? NO way. I don't even know anyone." So I encouraged her to visit. She agreed. Afterall, she said, it was a beautiful day and we should spend it going somewhere. It was a wonderful Open House. As the tour guide took us through each classroom, I noticed her interested was piqued. It surprised her. She left feeling open to the idea of attending. I had hope.

Quintessential Michaela
Robert Harrington Photography

Then she shadowed a student and said it was a great day. "OMG, Mom. They have the best lunch room, ever! There is real chicken in the kung pao. And there is real cheese on that pizza!" She went on and on about the lunch room. "How were the classes?" I asked. "Oh, I liked them."
Hmmm.
She took the test. It was hell getting all the information for the application process. I had to contact her existing teachers, her principal, and the school secretary. I felt like an idiot, but it needed to be done.
When she got accepted, she squealed. She jumped up and down and was so excited.
I thought—this is it! She is going!
I was wrong. She wanted to go where her friends are going. I couldn't blame her for that.
I didn't pressure her or even try and change her mind. I simply asked: Are you sure? She was.
She wants to have a fun four years filled with the friends she made since kindergarten. There is something to be said for that. I understood.

But I still felt sad. People told me I should force her into going. But, you can't force Michaela to do anything. I taught her to be her own person. And she is. I will always go back to something she said years back. My sister was joking, calling her own daughter "my baby," and Michaela quickly retorted:
"You can own a car, you can own a house, but you can't own people," she said.
 Wise words from a 4 year old.