|
| - |
Recommended reading
|
The Parental Dilemma...
By Sara Ibrahim
Parent-teenage relationships can often get very edgy. In the plight of my anger, I sometimes think that religion only stressed so much about us being good to our parents, not because we need a constant reminder of what they put up with for us, but because at one point, it needs a lot of self-restraint to put up with them. And then shines a sudden enlightenment upon my wretched soul, and I my head isn’t aching so much that I can’t console myself with a bit of philosophizing. Why is it that I get angry with my parents? It’s almost always because either they blamed me for something, or they told me I should do something and I ought to have been sensible enough to, or they gave me some worldly advice that just irritated me for their having to tell me about it…and I realized something. Now that I’m in the latter part of my teenage years, adulthood’s heading towards me faster than I can keep it away, and it’s not just a matter of whether I’m willing to take on the responsibilities ahead, it’s more like I NEED to be prepared, because I’m going to be given these responsibilities whether I like it or not once adulthood officially announces me in its realm, and hey, I want to make it out there. We all do. Most teens would find the prospects of adulthood exhilarating. I honestly find it intimidating. Considering that my parents shaped my view of the world all these years past, shielding me from all the ugly stuff out there, stepping into adulthood would mean stepping out of the world they created for me. That would also mean they have to let me go. And maybe that’s why it’s so important for me to prove to them that I’m not a kid anymore. Here I am trying to see me through the future, working against this fear that I’m not doing it the right way, and rather than assuring me that I am on the right track, they do something that makes me feel like a kid, making my fear more vivid. So of course a conditioned reflex would be to retort! I do try to empathise with my parents though. I suppose it is hard to see that growing lump that you got, that plopped out of you one day, then later decided to walk and talk on its own as anything but yours to look after. But it’s been seventeen years. Shouldn’t they have gotten used to the fact that I can do things on my own? I’m not that cute and cuddly anymore. I shouldn’t particularly evoke that sort of feeling… I guess they never will see me as an adult, will they? The right thing would be to be good to them. I mean the only reason why I retort is because of this fear of mine. It shouldn’t be so much of a concern, seeing that they never will see me as anything but a kid. Besides, I think it’s good for their psychological well being to be able to scold me now and then. Yeah, really! I tried do things right once so that they could stop complaining, and my mom started to pout things like ‘Well, you’ve grown. Looks like you don’t need me anymore (boo hoo hoo)…’ I wouldn’t want for my mom to feel useless. It gives her pride to look after us, so why spoil it for her? Let her scold every once and a while. Maybe this is the beginning for me. I need to look past this need for them to pat me on the back and tell me I can make it out there, like I always went to them for comfort. Maybe it starts with my letting go of them. Thanks for giving them to me God. |