I just had a nice cold shower, late late at night, and my toes are cold now. Instead of WoWing, I've been thinking about some stuff.
A blogger whose blog I love to read is experiencing a personal tragedy that I would not and could not even begin to understand. As such, I can offer no words of comfort because I really don't know what to say. I hope I can be as strong as he is when I am faced with the same inevitable situation someday, which I hope remains in the far, far future.
People would normally label me under the good girl category. It would be nice to be a wild happening party chick, but I'm realistic enough to know that in actuality I'm the plodding, goody-two-shoes type.
I live a very cloistered and protected life. My parents worry about me, probably more than most parents with daughters who're 22 going on 23. Sometimes it gets to me, when they make noises about me going out of the house in low jeans exposing my belly button. Or when I show more skin than they're comfortable with. Sometimes they don't like the people I hang out with, sometimes they ask too many annoying questions, sometimes they irritate the hell out of me by thinking that I'm 8 years old. Sometimes I get fed-up with them calling and calling and leaving messages when I'm out late with friends. Sometimes I want to scream.
But then, to be honest, I have a hand in this, because I always capitulate. It's almost become routine that they know I will give in in the end, so when I don't it's like the end of the world. Sometimes I feel that things are starting to get ridiculous when I wake up wanting soft-boiled eggs for breakfast but my granma insists that I eat cornflakes instead. I'll sulk a bit but end up eating the cornflakes at the end of the day.
Sometimes, friends have asked me why I put up with this, why I don't rebel, why I don't try to be more independent.
When you live in close proximity with some people, I think you'll invariably end up taking them for granted. I know I do. I think it comes hand in hand with intimacy. Sometimes I get impatient, I give short-tempered barks, and I'm defensive. The whole thing I'm focusing on now is to try and not to do this so much. Keyword try.
When I was a child, I remember being happy most of the time. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for my parents. There was a host of problems that they had to deal with, and they were under a tremendous amount of pressure that no one sane should have to go through. I didn't understand it back then, but I do now, and it's only made things more complicated. Up to now, the whole point of my life has pretty much been to make my own life better, not anyone else's.
I think I will never know what it's like to be a parent until I've had kids myself, and understand what it's like to read newspaper articles about rapes and murders, and worry that the very same thing could happen to my sons and daughters. I suppose it takes pushing out a kid to understand, really understand, what it's like to live life where the main objective is to do all you can so that your kids have a better life.
There have been times when I doubt my ability to survive should I suddenly be tossed out into the world with no one to help me. If I had no one to depend on, what would happen to me? In complete honesty, I will say that I'll probably stumble and fall, and end up bruised and (hopefully just) a bit battered , but I know I will learn, and I know I will survive. If I really wanted it, there's no reason to think that I can't.
So, back to the question.
I tend to treat people more or less the way they treat me. If you think I'm nice to you, it's always because you've been nice to me first. Ditto bitchy. Hence I always have a problem saying no to people who've been good to me.
My family is under no obligation to give me everything that I have right now. It sounds 'holy', but I earned none of it, everything was given to me.
Every battle fought has a cost. A battle won is a battle where the benefits outweigh the sacrifices the entire army has to make. I won't make a good general. I fight some battles; I let the others slide. It's just not worth it. It's hard for me to be angry at someone whose intentions I know, for sure, are for my well-being. It may not necessarily be the way I want them to love me, but it doesn't mean they love me any less. Changing my clothes is not a big deal when I think about it.
Maybe I really don't know where to draw the line. Maybe this is just a whole guilt-trip thing. Maybe I'll never be an individual of my own right as long as I keep demuring to my parents and my grandmother. Maybe I'll be a child until I'm into my 30s.
It's a choice I made quite a while ago. I don't regret it now. I think I will doubt the wisdom of this decision when I'm the only 30-year-old (and embarassed) kid around. I hope I won't regret it in the long run. Doesn't mean I won't bitch about it on bad days though. :)
We'll just have to see how it plays out.
