Control and Being Ben to the max

It strikes me, that as I get older, the number of available pitfalls before me seems to somewhat increase in proportion to the number of people who (by their own admission) are the ones to point them out to me. Despite these two variables, my seventeen years spent adorning this earth has not been without its lessons and at the expense of the label of arrogance from my more `learned` elders, I feel confident that I am able to stride through this life, based primarily on my own intervention, without relying on third party cruze control.
I remember one particular journey home from Norwich with one of these `gurus` as they told me I was `wanting my Riches` (like the prodigal son) , and the constricting feeling I endured from the condescending remark. There's always an unnerving dilemma as I try and balance the advice of those more experienced in life, and the path which would be followed were I to live life by my own admission.
I often muse on what would be the advantage of never getting things wrong in life – and what would be the point in leading a flawless life, by blindly conceding all the time to what I'm told. I freely admit, Life, in so far as a secure framework of social interaction would be, by and large, a much more amiable, even inviting place – but what about the interest I should bear in my own personage? Are there no virtues in one's own mistakes? Or does beauty not caress every single thing? Surely, there is good in everything, and I think: `that which does not kill us, serves only to make us stronger`.
Is it wrong that it is in the strength such a philosophy I should choose to live, and not in the shadow of the strength given to others by the same means? In sixty years, I plan to recurse my life in memories and I should like to be able to say that i learned my path through to such a point, not by being puppeted by my advisers, but by my own lust for living and willingness to optimize my space on this earth.