It's easy to assume I was a dumb kid acting on my emotions, but we dated for years before I told my mom. I had to know that what we had was the real deal before growing a pair and telling her I was dead serious. Why were my panties in a bundle over this? Well, here are some reasons...
- My significant other does not come from a family that practices the same sect of Islam as my mother does. This matters because my mother has grown extremely conservative since moving to the United States. I suppose it might have a little to do with her friends and her missing home in Pakistan.
- She blames marrying an alcoholic (Hi Dad!) on the premise of, "I was young and in love, so I didn't know any better." As a result, "You won't get married to anyone unless I approve" was something I heard on a daily basis.
- All sons have close relationships with their mothers, especially the oldest son. She has dreaded a "young girl" taking me away from her since I was born. This explains why I wasn't allowed to be friends with members of the opposite sex during high school. Kind of rough, I know, but there were many ways around that.
- Her many years of using me as an emotional crutch to gain some strength of her own in a troubled marriage and foreign country led to her having unrealistic expectations of me as a son and as a human being in general.
I called T-Mobile yesterday and told them to drop my mom's line from my plan. Then I called my dad and told him he can pay for her line if he wants, but that I wasn't going to pay for a phone that isn't used to call me. I was done pussyfooting around the issue - I told him it was about time I did something about it because God knows he doesn't do shit (Why argue with my mom when she conveniently provides him with three meals a day and a clean house?).
About time I grew a pair, right? I thought I was going to feel a lot better. And I did in the immediate short-term, but I still feel like nothing has changed... It really hasn't.