Independence

I have thought a bit about why I'm not close to my family, though I love them dearly. It's because I want to be my own person. It's very hard to be my own self around my family. I'm on my best behavior, I can't say everything I want to say. I self-censor. Sometimes, in a burst of emotion, I might slip. But mostly, I'm very much in control of what I say. I have to be far more diplomatic, I can't be as blunt as I want - except around certain people. In some ways, going home is relaxing. I take special joy in seeing my nephews. I do love my little boo boos, and I hope someday to be the rich old auntie who can take care of them. My parents are good people, loving people. I used to be best friends with my mom when I was growing up, but that changed when I left home. I had my own things to do, my own life to lead. I had (and probably still have) a lot of learning to do about myself. And in a strange turn of events, my sister, who had always been the rebel, suddenly transformed into my mother - but younger and with a bit more edge. Must be the whole thing about getting married and settling down. My sister took my place. And I was perfectly content with that, because as much as I love and share many of my parents' values, it feels good to be free. It's not that I lead some kind of sordid life - anyone who reads this blog knows how much of a boring life I lead. Quite sincerely, I wonder why:

• anyone reads this blog;
• anyone links to this blog; and
• how you all stay awake when I get long-winded like this?!

(Boo-yaa! Welcome the return of my 3-bullet list!) It seems that I'm always trying to achieve something. And I'm always conscious of what I feel is right and wrong, and for the most part, I am strong enough to live in accord with my morals. I don't need much guidance in that department. I'm not going to become some drunken, drugged-out, thieving, wretched whore. It's just that when I am home, I don't feel like an adult. I feel like I have to be married in order to have some validation. And even then, that validation is illusory. You see, they worry like crap if I tell them anything more than mildly distressing. I am made of much sterner stuff, and usually if I tell people my problems, I am just venting - I am ACTUALLY thinking of my own approach to a solution, if I already haven't. It is in this way I am like a man: if I actually NEED your help, I will ASK for it. But if I don't ask, just let me vent like a woman, 'k? Yeah, I'm a single woman living in any given city, but you know what? I can take care of myself and I'm not going to do anything stupid! Give me a f'in break! Give me some credit! There was a period a few years back when it seemed like I could barely talk with my mom. We got past that, but it's probably more like I've just buried the feeling, because it's like a hammer waiting to fall - I'm always looking out for when they seem to make me feel like a child. She learned how to approach me when she wanted to give advice, and I lost my obfuscation toward her intentions. I mean, normally I look at the heart and can forgive easily if the heart is in the right place, but at that point my sick-o'-this-shit meter was a strobe light and I was on a hair-pin trigger. I explained that it is a trust issue - I need you to trust me to take care of myself. You raised me well, and I'm not deviating from it much. Leave well enough alone. But the 'you need a man to take care of you before I'll stop worrying about you' thing still hung in the air and I find it offensive. My sister and I, and our mother - we are cut from the same cloth, for the most part, but my sister's and my color is a different hue. We're stronger, we're not culturally inhibited by the need to have a man around. God bless my sister, because she found a man who is almost literal gold. But she can take care of herself and her kids if need be. She's resourceful and strong. My mother is strong, but there are cultural limitations that come from our generation gap. She tries, though, and I can still relate to her on many levels. I feel bad, because she bears everyone's burdens. Very much a mother hen. Strong, but too old-fashioned in a few ways. My father - I love him, but he is not the easiest person to love. He has control issues, and it's nigh useless to talk to him unless you tell him what he wants to hear. He has the hair-pin trigger that I have apparently inherited (Thanks, Dad). He loves to argue at the extremes - if you don't agree with his logic, he must be crazy. He can't just be wrong. He'll only accept being wrong from someone with credentials - someone he respects - to prove him wrong, like a doctor. I mean, shit, I'm a lawyer and if I tell him that he should do x to protect himself legally, he blows me off because he doesn't want to spend the money to go see a lawyer in his jurisdiction. Okay, wtf-ever. I don't speak with him at length very often, and it's not even by conscious design - it is just innate. I don't like talking to walls. If I do speak with him at length, I'll be mostly listening and asking him questions. I just had an argument with my dad yesterday that went somewhat awry, because he said something that actually set me off and I went off on him. He insulted my intelligence about something and there he was, doing something else that was equally irrational. So we're even, right? No, because I'm the one that will have to be wrong. It's not mere disagreement, but the approach. I went off the rails. I'm not going to take the shit that he gives my mother, where he demeans her intelligence or decision-making processes. I am NOT my mother. The sad thing is, I think that if I did something to truly break contact with my dad, he would go to his grave thinking I was the crazy bitch. So I have no intention of doing that, since it's not worth losing the rest of my family, but I for damn sure am not going to apologize for taking my position in the argument yesterday, and I'm not going to apologize for going off. Give me some fucking respect. I'm not some egotistical bitch, but I'm not going to be demeaned. I have worked too hard to do everything I have to have my intelligence insulted. So there are my mommy-issues and my daddy-issues. And now you see why I don't go home, or even call very much? Love them, will do anything for them, but God forbid I live in-state. I couldn't be my own person, because together they would be overbearing. And I want to like myself - to really like myself. So I'll keep my happy distance. I just miss seeing the boys. Sigh. Look what you've started, dear sister.