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Is it pathetic that hiding things from my parents makes me feel grown up?
Tera and Magen came and visited me a week or so ago. One night, Rene and I decided to meet them at Denny's even though it was 10:30 and I'm not allowed to drive after 9pm. I knew my mom would seriously not approve, so we made plans to not tell her. And we then ran in to my aunt and uncle and cousin in the restaurant, so I ended up telling my parents the next morning. My mom flipped- "I need to know where you are! You can't just break the law to hang out with your friends! What if you lost your license?" I pointed out to her that if I hadn't told her, she wouldn't know. (My aunt and uncle didn't show up for the 4th of july party), that when I'm in Brockport she never has any idea where I am, that I break the law to visit them at the camper all the time and she doesn't care. Two days later I got out of work at 9:30pm and she asked me to swing by the camper on my way home and I flipped again- "How come it's okay for me to break the law to visit you but it's not okay for me to break the law to visit my friends?" Somewhere along the line, I realized my mom has no control over me any more. Whatever control she does exercise she has because I let her have it. I can do things she will never know about and tell her about things I do she'll disapprove of because even if she disapproves she can't stop me. And I'm not sure when that happened. It's been a long time since I asked my parents. By 8th grade I was telling them when someone was coming over instead of asking. Two days ago I told my mom I planned to drive an hour and a half to go shopping on my day off. Rene told me that she waited until I left the room to panic. I'm slowly making plans for my life after college, and my mom is slowly realizing that those plans don't involve living at home. Somewhere, I found confidence. I've lost 25 pounds since last July, and I'm suddenly fitting into the clothes in the back of my closet. I've been shopping at thrift stores, creating a style for myself instead of wearing whatever clothes are closest when I get up in the morning. I've started thinking of what things I'd like to buy that I can take with me from here to my dorm room to my first apartment. I've been investigating vibrators and bongs and other miscellaneous things I've always vaguely wanted but have been too afraid to buy. I've snuck into movies and I always drive too fast. I dance, and I sing, and I don't just listen to folk music with deep lyrics any more. Currently, I'm rather fond of TLC. I cut and dyed my hair on an impulse and I love it. I am capable of wearing makeup only when I feel like it and only because I feel like it. I don't get dressed up for anybody but me. I'm changing. In a way you can almost see. My dad told me when I came home that he knew it would be hard because he knew it wouldn't really feel like home anymore and even if the place hasn't changed you have. And I agreed. I didn't realize that coming back to the place where I was once a little kid has made me more comfortable with being grown up. I know I'm not all the way there yet. I still want my mom when I'm feeling sick, and I want her advice about haircuts and furniture and what brand of blacklight to buy. And I need my dad to sympathize with me when I'm bored and listen when I'm sick and tired of work (without telling me, in so many words, that doing something I'm sick and tired of will be good for me for a change, which is what my mom does. Saying that effectively demisses all the work I've done for school, all the days I've gone to classes without wanting to, the fact that I even passed let alone made dean's list when all I wanted to do was party. It forgets that even though I left high school, I made it through sixth, seventh, eighth, and half of ninth when I was ready to quit in fifth. I know it's something I have to do, I do things I have to all the time. I don't need someone to tell me that I need someone to listen.) Anyway, I have no clue how to file taxes or pay for a dentist appointment so the insurance will pay me back and I can't take a movie out of the library by myself, even though I can drive myself there in my own car (which is 2/3 of the way paid off) and I can earn enough money to pay them back for any movie I happen to destroy. I can't open my own checking account or get my own credit card, I can't buy cigarettes or play the lottery, and I have 3 1/2 years before I can buy my own alcohol. But I'm closer. I'm working, I get myself up and drive myself there every day. I can drive long distances by myself, I can make friends and small talk, I cook for myself and rarely ever resort to Kraft mac and cheese or frozen pizzas. I don't spend all my paychecks on stupid little things. I don't spend all my paychecks at all, for that matter. I manage to put most of them in the bank to pay for my car. (So far, total, I've saved 2/3 of the money I've made working this summer. That seems pretty good to me.) I redecorated my bedroom in yellow and blue, with nice prints and no music star posters. I think maybe I'm even starting to like myself. I always liked myself when I was little, I was a chubby little bookworm and I prided myself on the fact that I read more than anyone else I knew. And then I hit puberty and realized I'm a freak and I've never really outgrown that feeling that I'm different and the rest of the world is normal and that means something is wrong with me. I told myself that if you're sane in an insane world you're much crazier than an insane person who at least matches their surroundings, but I never really believed it deep down. I think maybe I'm finding peace. ~me |