Thursday, November 3, 2011

under your thumb i can't breathe

i'm 20 years old.  but you still seem to treat me like i'm 7.

not sure if you noticed, but i'm no longer clinging to your leg like a scared little girl.  slowly but surely, i've taken my face out of the folds of your dress, become aware of the outside world.  i know you probably hate to think of it this way, but i think i'm ready to walk on my own.  baby steps at first.  and maybe i'll have to come back to my familiar place at your side for a little while.  but sooner or later i'll be making great strides toward a destiny you tried to prepare me for.

but the only way that will happen is if you let me go.

understand that disrespect is not my intention.  i love you, and i appreciate every single thing you've done for me my entire life; that will never change.  i just have a lot to say, and i need you to listen.  i need you to stop thinking that i called to argue, to stop trying to guilt me into agreement.  i'm not your carbon copy; i have half of your DNA, but that doesn't make me your clone.

i need you to acknowledge that i'm 20 years old, 5 months and 9 days shy of 21, and i don't need your blessing to make all my decisions.  scary, i know, but you can't reverse time.  it just keeps flying.

and now i need the space to spread my wings.

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