Naturally, my parents had very different reactions when I
told them of my plans to move. Unsurprisingly, the parent 1,000 miles away was
totally cool with the idea. The one a 30-minute drive down the road was
slightly less than excited to be losing me to the other West Coast.
Saying that I’m lucky is an understatement. To have
parentals who are completely supportive of my plans to move is an amazing gift
from them both. I mean, at 25 I can do whatever I want. But still, support
feels great. With regards to my mother, “supportive” is an understatement. About a week after the bomb drop, she
came back and shocked me with the desire to make the drive with me.
My initial reaction- “hell no.” (I didn’t actually say
that).
Second reaction- “I don’t need my MOM to drive with me. I’m
not a freshman moving into my dorm room.” (I did actually say that, not nice).
Third reaction- “Mom, I drive a Mini Cooper…you’d take up,
like, a third of my packing space.” (Ok, more reasonable and actually logical).
The real reason I had such a visceral reaction was because-
I’m supposed to be doing this on my own. That’s how I’ve planned it. Just me.
On the open road! How fun! Winding my way across the country. Stopping at
sketchy hotels because of my limited budget. Seeing the crazy people who stay
at these sketchy hotels. Being paranoid by myself at night thinking about that
sketchy guy I saw when I checked into the sketchy hotel. Wondering if he saw
the number on my room key and wishing I had a gun…
