Lately I’ve been hard to reach, I’ve been too long on my own

July 9, 2009 at 11:55 am Leave a comment

My parents don’t trust me. I admit, it is entirely my fault. For a long time, I kept telling myself that I’m a good girl- I don’t do bad things, I don’t get with bad company, I’m the epitome of a perfect daughter. But lately, I’ve had these… surges of rebellion that I can’t seem to control. I don’t do anything bad in particular. I mean, I don’t go having sex with random guys or do drugs or smoke cigarettes- but I do small things like accept condoms from the Safe Sex booth at school and put it in my underwear drawer, leave a pack of cigarettes that I don’t smoke in my bag, hang out with people I don’t really like, flirt with many boys that I don’t even like. Just things like that that sort of give the illusion of rebellion but not quite. And when my parents found out about the aforementioned, of course they responded with much anger. How could I… their seemingly perfect daughter be capable of such things? Granted, they think I actually have sex and smoke.

It’s partly my fault. From high school, I’ve always told little white lies so that things would be easier. I always wanted to avoid being lectured about things. For example, if me and my best friend were planning on driving to the mall, I would lie and say I’m just going to her house so I wouldn’t get lectured about the danger of young drivers. If I’m going to a party with boys- I wouldn’t admit it because my parents might think I’m doing something with them (I can admittedly say that I NEVER had a boyfriend all throughout high school. It actually came to a point where my friends would BEG for me to get a boyfriend or try to hook me up with certain guys. I avoided lesbian jokes at all costs). If I plan on hanging out with so-and-so, I’d just say I’m going to do something somewhere else so that I don’t have to explain who so-and-so is. My parents seemed touchy when it comes to new people in my life. They sort of get used to me saying certain names so I play it safe and recycle those names over and over again. Just small things like that… nothing major. The reason why I did it? It was just so much easier for me to ask for permission that way. I know that it’s wrong and I shouldn’t have done it like that. I regret that now because it has given me the image of being a chronic liar. Which to an extent, I am.

Another reason why my mom currently hates me, the way that I talk to her. She tells me I have no respect. I must admit, this is true. Sometimes the tone of my voice or the words that I use can be somewhat hurtful or demeaning. I suppose the reason why this is so is because I don’t really communicate with my parents a lot. I’m not used to talking to them, so the way that I talk to other people in my life (namely, my friends) just come out. I wish I could… I wish I could tell them things about my life more than just “Dad, drive me to work” or “Mom, can I borrow $2.75 for the bus?”. But I always feel sort of awkward and I don’t know why. Even small things like asking them if I could go to the mall makes me feel awkward. I feel like I’m bothering them. My mom complains about how I always leave things to the last minute. When I go out, I wait until the very last minute before to ask them. The reason why isn’t because I’m irresponsible or anything like that. It’s just that I get so nervous asking them… I’m afraid they would say “No” so I practice over and over again the best way to ask for permission. And in this process, small little tinges of lies get mixed into my words because of my desire for approval.

I hate that my parents now have this bad image of me. I am now seen as their demonic daughter who always need everything to go her way. I am somewhat an overindulged brat. I need to change this… so from now on, I vow to tell the truth about everything I do and the things that happen in my life. And what a better place to start, but with my new (and first) boyfriend.

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Push it baby, push it baby, outta control- I got my gun cocked tight and I’m ready to blow And no one knows… the things we’ve been through can never measure up to half of what I put you through

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