Once again

And this time, with feeling.

I don’t know why I keep getting drawn back in, but one of these days I’m going to stick with it.  Mostly because by now, everyone has forgotten about this, and by now, I can just write with reckless abandon.

I haven’t written much of anything recently.  Just little doodles in my notebook about being depressed when I’m not, or about a character I’m starting to lose touch with.  It’s crazy how things work.  –Oh, is that a theme in my life lately.

See, I’m in that tricky little place.  A fucker of a mess, really.  That age where even with staunch, upper middle class conservative parents it’s time to branch off and branch out and become my own.  That lovely age where you’re not financially independent, but you’re supposed to be calling all the shots anyway.  And if you’re me you have the little feeling of guilt that accompanies every decision counter to your parents’ minds.

Recently I went on vacation with my boyfriend and his best friend.  Spring Break 2010 roadtrip.  Extremely last minute decision, and my parents gave me hell.  I mean hell.  I quietly paced the pavement in the courtyard of my apartment buildings as my parents brought up every concern and every bad idea and every argument they had.  My stepdad told me he didn’t want me going with this loser of a boyfriend.  My mom told me I would have broken my grandparents’ hearts if they only knew.  I told them I felt awful, but I had to do something different.

All my life I have been a very, very good girl.  I still can’t screw up without my parents at least being aware that something is going on.  I hate living in the dark, and I can’t lie, at least not well, at least not significantly.  A plus, obviously, with a downside–that being that this charmed little girl they raised suddenly decides to do what she wants, and it’s not so fairy tale after all.  And then I decided to break the pattern even more–on the way home, I decided I would be joining my boyfriend’s family to his grandma’s birthday.  And after talking to my mom and having her nearly grieve over the idea that I would be meeting his family and “getting too embroiled” (her greatest fear being me dropping out of college to get married and have kids, something I’m terrified of and unwilling as of yet to even think about) I decided to lie about it.

Guess what happened?  Oh, come on.  You know this story.  Or maybe you’re a better liar than I am.

The next night I get pulled out of dinner by the worst phone call I’ve ever received.

Of course, I let them lay in to me.  I really didn’t have a better choice.  What position was I in to fight back?  And what little fighting I did was subtle.  And the worst feeling of all?

Complete liberation!

I had finally screwed up!  I had finally done something to the point of my parents realizing I wasn’t exactly who they thought I was.  Things had changed–long ago–and it was no one’s fault but my own.  I was responsible.  I was responsible!  I had made the decision!  No one could have talked me out of it–and my boyfriend tried–but instead of doing the right thing and keeping the illusion, I broke pattern.  They were threatening to cut me off.  They lost trust in me.  Things would never be the same.  I was devastated, yes, mourning the loss of a little girl.

But finally, I was free.  And two days later, my mom and I had a lengthy conversation.  I would be making my own decisions.  My own judgment calls.  I was free to do whatever–and that was all she wanted for me.

Beautiful.

Not the only lesson learned–I freaked out when they first talked to me.  A lot of things were said in anger, and I let most of it go by, apologized, kept my head down, took responsibility and picked my battles so cautiously.  Walking on pins and needles seem like a preferable option than that conversation at the time.  I handled the actual talk well.  The fallout was not so good.  It added a lot of stress to my relationship, especially because of the rift it created between him and them.  I was constantly stressed for a week.  I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat.  I was snapping.  It was painful.  And to him it seemed like nothing had changed.  I wasn’t going to be making my own decisions, I wasn’t going to learn to hold my head up high and be myself, I was going to feel guilty for not following their wishes and I was going to stress out until I was finally where they wanted me.

What he doesn’t quite realize yet–and we hit a tough spot, not just for this reason–is that I am exactly where they want me to be.  A grown up woman with a mind of my own and the motivation to get what I truly want.  Lucky for him, he’s what I want right now.  Lucky for me, now that I’m finally getting in touch with my own self and my own wants and desires, I’m going to finally be somewhere I should have been for a while now, making myself truly happy with my own life.  Yes, there’s a balancing act to be played.  Yes, there’s a time and a place for everything.  But yes!  I can finally figure everything out–by myself.

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