My Greatest Adventure
I was really still just a kid; a kid that needed to become an adult and just cut those apron strings already. I didn’t realize that by telling my new husband to look for a job anywhere, that he would actually listen. He listened to me, though, and searched for a job. Where else would he look first other than New Orleans? It was the place that I fell in love with him, all over again, after our initial love trip.
The day he told me that he had an interview, on the phone, with a guy in New Orleans for a job, is a day that I won’t ever forget. The butterflies in my stomach danced around so much, so quickly, that I felt nauseous. There was no turning back. I couldn’t take a perfectly good job away from him, especially after he’d been looking for one so diligently. I wasn’t going to be that wife.
And so, it happened; he got the job. I was able to transfer with my job at the portrait studio, too. It was too good to be true. It was perfect. Then [we] had to tell my parents, the apron-wearers. The knot in that apron was so tight, and so binding, that it was a chore to get it undone. Such a chore that scissors made of platinum were needed. Somehow I found the right tool, and I used it.
They were so angry, with such a seething anger, but it had to be done. I had to go grow up. It was time. This was it.
The adventure began. We packed up what little belongings we had—which included the world’s heaviest sectional—in a small U-Haul, packed up our new puppy, Sadie, said our sad-drawn-out-goodbyes, and drove off towards the Big Easy.
I don’t believe, for a minute, that it was easy for me. Quite possibly, for the whole two years we lived there, I cried daily. Phone calls were an emotional roller coaster. I’d be fine the whole day, only to [come] home, to answer the phone, and to be thrown into a pit of guilt and overwhelming sadness. I know I was their only daughter, but, damn it, did the guilt have to be so tragic and crushing.
Daily I would realize, though, that I was flourishing. My mind was becoming its own and I was making decisions for myself. Sure, I had Michael, but I was not relying on anyone else. There were no other eyes peering at me. There was no audience. There was only a new realm where I was in control; I could choose to go certain places without any explanation or any trepidation. I held the reigns. This was my time.
This great adventure set the stage. We’d move back to the place of my birth two times, but ultimately we’d move away thrice. This last time, here, is going to stick. Strangely I am more myself in a place that is other than that of my upbringing. Sometimes I think about why that is so, and I cannot seem to formulate the thought completely. I guess the closest way I can describe it is like this: Growing up I was a caterpillar. Slowly I made it through life under the careful eyes of parental caterpillar units. They tried to keep me safe, tried to keep me from falling prey to those cannibalistic ones, tried to keep me comfortable in my caterpillar skin. But, it wasn’t right. The metamorphosis was inevitable. Somehow, someway, I was destined to fly off with my pulchritudinous wings.
Free.
Destined.
Bold.
Venturous.
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10 Responses to “My Greatest Adventure”
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Awesome Mishi! I know exactly how you feel. I love my parents to death, but the best thing I ever did was move away and be my own man. Great adventure(s)!
Parents have to be so careful to remember that they don’t “own” their children.
I’m glad you were brave enough to face their disappointment, and grow.
That is a beautifully written piece. I was fortunate in that my parents didn’t expect me live in town with them and after I married they were the giving parents — taking whatever holiday we could give them. For that reason, we always tried to give them more. With my own daughters I’ve tried to be more like my parents — no guilt trips etc. — I don’t always succeed, but I try. However, eight years ago when hubby’s job required him to move 650 miles from the hub of where we all lived (none of us were in the same town, but we were only a couple of hours from each other) everyone was very upset — daughters, parents, friends. Everyone. Everyone except me. I knew I would continue to see them but it has been hard. I’ve had two very precious grandchildren born that think I live at the airport, because when I go home that is where I go. To the airport. I miss them very much — that is the hard part. Now back to your blog. Thanks for sharing a part of your life that makes you you.
Good for you! When I left for my honeymoon, I never came back home. We went from the church, on our trip, then on to our new home 300 miles away. It’s difficult to cut those apron strings.
Beautiful, Mishi. Really. I went to college 3 hours from home, and that was the last time I was that close. Still, it’s home and so is where I am now. I have an odd ability to be at home wherever I go, and I’m grateful. I’m glad you found the place that is home for you.
You guys gotta live the life you were meant to – your parents gotta deal. And, you get to take great road trips when you head home.
Here’s the irony in this post for me: I’ve always seen you as someone who just struck out in her own driection, always. It never occured that you might have once not been the person who moves wherever, whenever, doing her thing.
Love this!! I’ve never actually lived far away from my parents, but that time is coming…. and the only reason I’m dreading it is because of my kid’ relationship with them
That was a lovely piece of writing! Joining the Navy and moving away was what made me grow up. I think it’s important to get out to make our own decisions. I can’t say I wouldn’t like to live where I was raised, because we never stayed in one place long enough to be ‘my hometown’. As an adult, I love living close to my mom, she is one of my best friends and hope we don’t ever have to move far away. As my father taught us, though, ‘you move where the jobs are’, so if that’s the case. we’ll make the best of it.
“Strangely I am more myself in a place that is other than that of my upbringing.”– I TOTALLY understand this. I’m the same way myself. I love my family and I’m grateful for the environment I grew up in, but OH how I LOVE the chance to be a bit more independent! I loved this post– what a fantastic take on “adventures.”