Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’m not playing games. I have partial control over your inheritance from your father until you’re twenty-five. You come home, or I cut you off.”
“I don’t care!” I shouted, surprised by my own voice. “I. Don’t. Care.” Without my inheritance, and since I didn’t have a steady job, I had no way to pay my bills, but that didn’t matter. I couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m not who you want me to be.” Now that I started, years of anger and pain were ripping to the forefront, climbing over each other to pour out of me. “I’m not like Colton, and I don’t want to be. Colton is mean and manipulative, and he hurt me.”
Her eyes widened, and I felt a moment of guilt for that.
“Did you know Colton was my first kiss? That he made me think he liked me, and I was so insecure, so needy for love and affection, that I believed him? He gave me something I craved, even though I didn’t really like him. I felt like I was supposed to, or that I should be lucky he would want me, and all I desired was someone to hold me and make me feel special.”
“Seth, I…”
“No.” I held my hand up. “I’m sorry to have to do it this way, but I can’t hold all this in any longer. I thought Colton and I were going to hang out and kiss, but he tried to go too far, too fast. I almost didn’t trust my own voice, but when I did, when I told him no, he was horrible to me. He spent my whole senior year calling me a tease and making me feel broken, like there was something wrong with me when it came to sex, because I didn’t want him. Like there was something wrong with me when I didn’t let him do whatever he wanted. And I told you I didn’t want to see him anymore, and you kept making me.”
“I didn’t know.” She held her hand to her face now, and it was shaking.
“I know you didn’t, and that’s because I didn’t feel like I could tell you. Because you already treated me as if I couldn’t take care of myself. You already made me feel weak, like if I didn’t do what you said and be who you wanted, I would screw up. I wouldn’t be happy and I’d be a disappointment and you wouldn’t love me.”
“I love you,” Mom said softly. And the thing was, I knew she did, but…
“I needed to hear it. Still do. I know you were never the best at that stuff because of how you grew up and your parents leaving, but you stopped completely after Dad died. It was like I lost both of you. And I need you to trust me. I need you to see who I am and accept that person. I need you to tell me it’s okay, but even if you don’t, know that I’m still going to be me. I need you to not make me feel weak and like I need you and that I can’t make my own decisions.”
My words were coming out too fast, but it was nothing compared to my thoughts. It was a lifetime of pain coming out in this one moment.
“I need you to acknowledge I’m gay. I’m gay, and I like to wear makeup, and I want to be a cosmetologist because I want to make people feel pretty. I play the piano in a bar, and while you look at me tonight like I’m a disgrace, these clothes and this makeup made me feel strong.” That’s what it did for me, didn’t it? And the guy in the bar had tried to take that strength away, tried to turn this thing I liked about myself into something that said he could do whatever he wanted to me. In a different way, Jake had done the same.
“I need you to know that I’ll screw up, but that doesn’t mean I need you to fix my problems for me. You can’t control everything. You can’t control me…and you couldn’t control Dad. He died, and it wasn’t his fault, and it’s not your fault either. Micromanaging people doesn’t mean you won’t lose them. I think that’s really what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? I need to spread my wings, Mom. Keeping them clipped won’t keep me safe; it will make me drown.”
And for the first time since my dad’s death, my mom started to cry. She walked over to me, reached out, and touched my face. Her hand was shaking. “I didn’t mean to fail you. And Colton…”
“I don’t want to talk about him. You didn’t fail me. Or if you did, it doesn’t matter.” Maybe I needed my mom’s approval more than I thought. Maybe I would never really believe it was okay to be me until she accepted all the parts of me, until she saw that I was strong enough to stand on my own. “I need you to love me.” I shrugged. “I need you to hug me instead of managing me.” That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Mom needed control. She felt like if she made the rules, if she didn’t show her affection, her love, it would hurt less if she was left behind, the way her family had left her, the way she felt like my dad had too. And maybe the way she felt like I’d left her when I came to Portland.