I’m On a Leash I can’t Escape

My entire life, I’ve been on a leash. Except, I NEVER REALIZED IT UNTIL NOW.

You know when you see those kids at Disneyland or just any highly populated place like the mall, and those kids are wearing those cute little fuzzy animal backpacks until you realize there is this long leash attached to it? That’s me. I’m that child trying to touch-this, touch-that, see-this, see-that, just trying to explore what’s in my reach but…I CAN’T.

I used to make fun of those kids under my breath thinking, “oh my gosh they must be that wild to require a LEASH”, or internally poke fun at the parents, like, “my gosh why on earth would you do that to your child? It’s not a damn DOG!”.

My leash is used in a different manner. It’s not because I’m an out-of-control child to lovely parents. My parents just care and love me so much that it’s hard for them to let me go and do what I want to do. They’re very protective and care about my well-being. I am grateful for them, yes I am, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes that overzealous love and care can be SMOTHERING.

Now, if you read my article I posted yesterday titled, “Those Wishy Washy Parents, I Tell You” then you would understand why I feel like I’m on this tight and tough leash. They just cannot let me go. As I grow, they extend my leash a little bit more to let me sniff around life and explore what’s beyond what I’ve seen, but now I’m that dog that’s thinking, “Oooh look at that fire hydrant across the street I must get to it and relieve myself!” and I need to get to Portland, OR to find my happiness and discover what’s in this next state over.

My parents give me a bit of freedom and accommodate me how I want but I’m still living under their roof, and under their physical supervision. I’m 26, by the way. Can you believe that? Can you believe that at this age and stage in my life I am still on this imaginary leash. I’m about to cut it loose come January when I move. I’ve already started severing away at it with my teeth trying to cut away what I can and release myself slowly. MYSELF. Yes, because I need to do it myself. Not wait around and wait for their permission or acceptance of doing so.

I’m going to get off that leash. I’m going to do it. I’m going to cut it loose and not run off wildly, but walk away with my head held high and look back and I’m going to show them that I can do it. I can face the world loose in the world running around with my head cut off and figuring life out.

This is my time to really figure out the real world, with out a leash, with a big distance gap between my family and I. I’m going to do it. Very soon.

Working on my release,

xoxo