Saturday, August 22, 2009

I'm not a princess....

....Am I?

My parents (mainly my mother) babied me throughout my entire 24 years. As a result, I've taken her for granted and feel despicable from it. I've finally come to realize that it is time for me to get out before it's too late.

My living arangements have been spectacular all my life. I've lived in apartments, condos, houses, and 3 years ago, I came face to face with the burbs.

I relocated from California to Texas with my family. I basically tagged along, even after my father offered to let me stay in California with a boyfriend I had at the time. I said "Screw it. Family is family, and we're sticking together."

Well, I pretty much screwed myself because as soon as I moved out of California, my boyfriend of 4 years and I broke up. And it was for good this time.
I had a shot at "independence" and I didn't take it. I stayed with Mom and Dad for way too long. My dad was convinced that I'd stay with them until I was 30. My mom didn't seem to mind, and neither did I. It was a living arrangement that was perfect; that is until my dad moved out. He relocated to California because he wasn't happy in Texas anymore. He opened his business and started living on his own. It was just my mom and I for the time being. Oh wait- did I forget to mention I had twin sisters who were 15 years younger than me?

Yes. That's the only negative aspect of it. You're 22 and they're 7.

My parents were still together, but not living under the same roof; they weren't separated either. My dad would come to visit us at every holiday, and would stay the weekend.
My mom started working nights, and I had to be home to take care of my sisters. Monday through Friday. From 5pm on. Sometimes even on Sundays.

At the time, it was... ok. I was single and wasn't dating. I didn't have many other interests, therefore school on the weekends took up most of my morning time. It was..... just fine. I dealt with it.

But then the itch for dating grew, and I couldn't just limit my time to Saturday nights. I wanted more. So my mom and I worked it out. I could get every other sunday, and monday nights as well. But that was it.

And then the resentment escalated. I needed to be out more often. My mom and I got into disagreements and heaterd arguments. I stormed into other rooms and slammed doors. I cried, I screamed, and shouted. I acted like a 15-year-old. And then I said what I really felt "I need to move out. I'm moving out!"

That was almost 6 months ago. After a few setbacks, changes of hearts and reconcialations, I finally set a date. September 1, 2009.

And I still haven't found a place.

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