Misunderstood

All my life,
It's been the same question.
"Have you understood?"
Like she doubts I could.
She's baffled by my mind.
It works in mysterious ways.
If I can't comprehend,
I can't get through the days.
I do have a mind.
I do have a brain.
Even if I don't use it,
It's there all the same.
If I make bad choices,
It's not my fault.
I'm a prodigal child,
Or apart of some cult.
She's believes I'm not to blame;
That I can't do anything wrong.
Does she really believe that peer pressure gets to me?
Does she really believe I'm not that strong?
I follow my friends;
All people sometimes do,
But that doesn't mean I'm incompetent.
That doesn't mean I have comprehension issues.
"You're too smart.
Don't let your friends drag you in."
Or
"Is this really what you want?
Is it all for attention?"
I have a mind.
I use it, I could.
But she still seems to believe
It's all misunderstood.