Growing Up

When I was in first grade, there was a field trip to the local Nature Center where we tapped maple trees and then came back to the elementary school and had pancakes. My mom didn't go on the trip and when we got back to the school, it appeared to me that everyone in the class' mom was there except mine. I was traumatized, I swear.

Similarly, when I was in the sixth grade, there was a big, school-wide camping trip at the end of the year. My mom knew I was upset that one time she didn't go, so she offered a thousand times to come along. I constantly refused, my rebellious sixth grade self knowing that she'd just end up scolding me. Sure enough though, the night before we left for the trip, I broke down in sobs, regretting my decision.

Those two moments have always stuck out to me, and now, especially in college, I'm always afraid I'm going to be alone while everyone else gets to see their parents. I've been diligent about telling my parents when family weekend is, and when they should be here. I hardly get to see them as is, and seeing my friends with their parents always just made me super homesick.

This year, since I had been home two weekends in a row, I made two very mature choices. I told my parents not to come Family Weekend (last weekend) and I volunteered not to come home for Columbus Day weekend. And I lived.

I hardly missed them last weekend. It felt like it had been so long since I was in the Bronx on a weekend and I was busy catching up on sleep and seeing friends. Plus, I know I'll be happy when they come to visit after my birthday at the end of this month, when I can finally enjoy a glass of wine with them.

I feel very grown up, letting go and not letting these trivial moments from my past hold me back. I love my family, but I also think it's important for me to have my time at school and not to constantly be coming home.



To help soften the blow, my surrogate mothers, JG and Caroline, also came into the Bronx for the weekend :)