"You have exhausted all of your talking rights by being crazy" – Lorelai, GG

Big decisions: where to live, where to go to school, who to love, where to work, who to trust, etc. Smaller decisions: what to eat, how to exercise, when to vacation, train or bus, small or medium shirt, etc. No matter what the decision, big or small, I always seem to turn my mother for answers. Ecstatic, depressed, neutral, enraged….I turn to her for explanations. Now this is not a new epiphany, I’ve been doing it since I was old enough to make decisions and experience emotions but I’ve been thinking about it recently as I continue to grow into my relationship. I wonder when I will begin to turn to him for all answers and explanations. I wonder if I will ever turn to him in the same way that I turn to her. I wonder if it’s okay that often, not always, but I often turn to him but still feel compelled to know her take on things before making a decision or coming to a conclusion. Does this mean I’m not a grown up? What does that say about me and will it ever change? Does it have to change and why is it something I even think about? I’ve been mulling this for a couple weeks now, trying to figure out how to make it interesting to write about, and on Sunday night, after a mini-meltdown of course, it came to me….

I had a really nice weekend. I worked at Rhino Friday night like I usually do. Saturday we got up and went grocery shopping; we bought fruit and veggies to make juice and I stocked up on snacks, sushi, and magazines for my night in. After he left for work, I nestled into his bed and watched three episodes of Shameless, followed by the Beyonce documentary on HBO, followed by another five or so episodes of Shameless. On Sunday we got up, went to the mall where I got new work kicks and mint green jeans for the spring and then over to Maddy’s Tap Room for a friend’s birthday celebration. I caught up with the girls, especially a Miss B.Ryan who had just returned from Peru the day before, it was a great night. We left on the early side, which I was happy about and he even offered to sleep at my apartment (WOWZA!). I danced around my room while blasting, “Pursuit of Happiness,” the Lissie version, showered, and sat down on the bed. As I sat, he played his game on his phone, and I felt like crying. I couldn’t tell you why, although, I believe some of my angst was about looming work projects that I just didn’t want to go to sleep, wake up, and deal with, but they are not worth crying about!

“I’ll be fine once I get, yeah I’ll be good.”

I text my mom to see if she’s still up and as I wait for her to respond, he starts to notice that something is wrong. Rather than tell him that I feel like crying for no reason, I pretend like I’m fine but he’s not buying it. A few minutes later, I step outside into the hallway to call her. I tell her what’s going on, that he’s here and it has nothing to do with him, that I can’t pinpoint what the hell is going on, and she says, “well, maybe ya just need to cry…go ahead.” I laugh a little and she goes off on a tangent about her day. By the end I felt better but I think he was a little freaked. “You never leave the room to talk to her, what’s going on?” he asked. After some hemming and hawing, the only thing I could say was this, “I don’t think you realize all the time how messed up and all over the place I feel. I think it’s most definitely a gender thing, as much as I hate to say it, as well as an age thing. I get it…I’m in my 20s, I’m supposed to feel crazy, I’m supposed to feel jumbled up and confused, I’m supposed to have emotions that change at the drop of a hat….and frankly, I do. Sometimes when I feel those things, I turn to her because she has 24 years of experience dealing with me. She has 24 years of knowing me and while you and I are together a long time….1 year of knowing me is just not the same as 24. I consider myself to be more mature than most girls my age but sometimes I just want to be a kid and I think she understands that better because…well, because I’m her kid.” This he understood. He loves me.

She’s always going to have more years on whoever I turn to in tough times, decision times, and confusing times. Whether it was a conscious decision or it wasn’t, she knew to just talk about nothing to me instead of trying to figure out why I was upset. I can’t say that’s a golden rule because sometimes I know deep down why I’m upset but don’t want to say it so you have to dig it out (LOL craaaaay) but she can pretty much tell the difference simply because she’s my mom.

It’s funny and it’s a weird dynamic because there are times when, for example, I’m ready to move in with the man but I feel like I have to have a conversation with my mom about it first. We’ve all talked loosely about it but before going in to sign any papers, I feel like I need to hear her say, “Ok, yes I support you.” Does that mean I’m really not grown up enough to make that kind of decision? I want to say no because I want to say that if that were the case, I’d probably still be eating glue at a pre-school. I also want to say no because I want to move in with him and I don’t want to hear that I’m not ready. Anyway….

Sassarella Says…I’ve decided that it’s okay for me to turn to her and it doesn’t mean I’m not mature enough to make decisions for myself. It means that I recognize her as the person who knows me best and that is reason enough to run some things almost everything by her…right?

Advertisements

About sasssays

The trials, the tribulations, and the triumphs of a sassy and sophisticated 20 something girl
This entry was posted in life as I know it and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s