Monday, May 12, 2014

Keep Talking to Closed Doors

When my mom held her baby girl and thought about the future I’m sure she saw our relationship growing into something Gilmore Girlesque when I became a teenager. I’d tell her about my first crush while she painted my nails. I’d cry on her shoulder and we'd pig out on ice cream when I got my heart broken. Reading my diary would never cross my mind because my life, to her, would be an open book.

Instead she got me. An introvert who thinks pouring my heart ranks slightly below a root canal on the list of things I’d rather not do. Even in the height of my teenage angst, I’d be much more likely to grab my running shoes than I would my cell phone after a tough breakup.

That had to be hard for a touchy-feely, extrovert like my mom. But to this day I’m amazed that she has never stopped letting me know she was there if I needed her. She kept asking questions even when I gave her one-word answers. When I got annoyed and slammed my door, she’d slip a “thinking of you” card under it. She instituted a mandatory call-home-on-Sundays policy when I moved out and still sent a card when she knew I was struggling.

As annoying as I thought it was when I was a teenager, I so appreciate it now. My whole life I knew that there was always someone I could go to with my problems. Having that security gave me the courage to move halfway across the country, try new things, be willing to accept myself for who I am, have the courage to fail, and the faith that I would eventually succeed.

by Kylee Perez, Communications Specialist, SC Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy

No comments:

Post a Comment