sweet to bitter

you may recall the bold statement i made about my mother. about how distance (physical) is the only thing that will bring our relationship (emotional) closer again. she could very well feel hurt if she knew that i was sharing this sentiment with the "world". but let me make something clear: it does not matter how wonderful your parents are. it doesn't matter if they make you mocha lattes, cover your bare legs with a blanket, threaten to chew out your boss, or actually, genuinely want to spend time with you (as mine do). they could be the best parents on god's green earth...unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that the generations will clash. and that is because, put simply, twenty-somethings are not meant to live with their parents.

i can't speak for all walks of life. i can only speak on behalf of boomerangers like myself, the college grads who, after shifting their tassel from one side to the other and enduring teary goodbyes, end up right where they left off four years prior: eating, showering, and sleeping under their parent's roof.

blame it on the crappy job market. blame it on the high cost of rent, or our educators for not teaching us enough about the obstacles we will face fresh out of college. blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol like t-pain if you wish. whatever the circumstances, most of us have returned to the nest to save money, buy time, and/or "find ourselves". but in addition to finding ourselves, we are also finding that we have grown so much since high school and throughout college. at least i feel that i am growing out of the family dynamic i have known all my life (meaning the part where they are there when i wake up and there when i go to sleep). yes, it is comforting and yes, it is safe. but it is also suffocating.

twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three...this is the time in our lives when

we want to be establishing our independence, creating space between ourselves and the one's who reared us. college gives you a taste of what living on your own feels like and you begin to get used to that flavor...that is, until life orders you a separate dish from the menu and suddenly you find yourself chowing down on that familiar london broil with broccoli and mashed potatoes at the family dinner table. but you can still remember the taste, that sweet taste of calling your own shots, making and learning from our own mistakes. basically, making and playing by your own rules. living with your

parents does not allow you the authority of doing this, and that, i believe, is what complicates and aggravates the whole situation.

when returning home to live with your parents used to always feel

like a fresh breath of air now feels like there is not enough air for which to breathe.

what once tasted sweet now tastes bitter.

so even though i love and appreciate my mom and dad dearly, i am consumed with trying to create as much space as possible between us, for space gives me that breathe of fresh air. and as cheesy as it sounds, space gives me room to spread my wings. okay, that was so cheesy i have to vomit now.