Motivation For Moving Out

Discontent, yes this is probably the best word to use to describe how I feel about my parents; more specifically their overall parenting techniques, teaching of lives little lessons or their interesting views on money, both borrowing and management there of. This feeling of discontent or restlessness if you will, has lead to my decision that it would be in the best interests of all those involved, if this little birdie were to spread her wings and leave the nest of repression. My parents, however, seem to hold contrary beliefs on the subject and have been trying very hard, through various methods of ‘clever’ wordplay, phrasing and overall deception, to either attempt to change my mind or to make me feel so inadequate that I should find myself in such dire need of their assistance that I will not want to move out anymore. Worse comes to worse, could see them systematically unpacking all my possessions behind me as I am trying to put it all into boxes!

Let us take a wee look at why I have this strong feeling of discontent towards my parents shall we? The first thing you should probably know is my biological parents have been divorced since I was about two years old. The idiot that I have been told I am supposed to call my mother (but who truly does not deserve the title) met a fairly large man by the name of Tomislav (Tom for short), who by the way does not appear to like children very much, when I was three years old. They were married five or so years later in a private ceremony that they did not invite anyone to, including my three older sisters and I, who at this time, were living full time with our father. For unexplainable reasons this woman keeps disappearing off the face of the planet and reappearing at odd and usually inconvenient intervals. I have not seen or spoken to her since I was at most thirteen years old (roughly, I am not actually positive of this number) and although she will supposedly (and very surprisingly) be at my eldest sister Darlene’s wedding come April (Easter to be exact), I do not plan on speaking to her then either. Nor do I plan to invite her to my own wedding, when ever that may be. It is a cruel fate I know, but she brought it upon herself. But I digress…

My father was awarded joint custody with primary residence of the four of us when I was six and a half and thus the start of my discontent. A certain amount of change is good for everyone but too much change is not healthy for anyone. In the years preluding and following the custody hearing, my father met a woman named Donna, who had two children of her own, and they fell in love. Their first child together was born in 1999, and then five more soon followed. This saw the birth of a drastic change in their parenting techniques. All of a sudden they were more patient, less strict and more seemingly forgiving, especially with the new batch of children. Thus creating, in my opinion anyway, the disobedient, ignorant, self centered, mean tempered, spoiled little brats I like to call younger siblings.

It infuriates me when I think of all breaks these little monsters get when ever they break the rules. How they are allowed to throw full blown temper tantrums and nothing is done to prevent or stop it! Sure they get sent to their rooms upon occasion, but their rooms are filled with toys and the minute they get up there they ask to come back down and my parents cave like a soufflé that someone pooped a balloon near! The only positive thing that I can think of that I have learned from my parents in regards to parenting, is how not to discipline my own children, and how to not let them discipline my children if ever the moment should arise that I have need for incompetent babysitters.

As you can see I have good reason for wanting to live on my own so soon. The rewards far out weigh the complications and consequences of such a change in life style. That and I will be out of reach for easy access cash withdrawal with no intention of ever being paid back. You see in more recent years (since I became old enough to work for actual pay) my parents have gotten into the habit of asking for money, expecting me to lend it to them (which I always do), and never seeing any of it again. It would seem as though they believe that because I am their daughter, that I can and will lend them money when ever they claim to need it (mainly because I could hardly tell them no with out getting some bogus lectured guilt trip about the importance of family) and they don’t have to pay me back. Now, it’s not entirely true that they never pay me back, they will upon occasion actually give me money but it has never been right away. They technically still owe me money from 2006, when I worked at Tim Horton’s, but I got tired of waiting and told them to just forget about it. Probably not the best decision on my part but I was young and very naïve. Hence why I am not so willing to simply for get about their new total. Does this seem a little too selfish of me? To want to be the master (or mistress in this case!) of my own finances?

Of course my parents issues with me and my money, oh no, not by half. You see to help myself on the road to complete independence, I have set and achieved the half way mark on a small savings account. This seems like a brilliant idea to me, save up some money before even looking for an apartment so that I will be able to pay first and last month’s rent up front (which is what most places ask for). It appears very practical to me, but maybe I am wrong, maybe my idea of practicality is way off the marker… Maybe in reality this plan is very impractical and I should be spending my money instead of saving it… It does not sound right to you either huh? Unfortunately this is where my parents stand on the issue. They either try to convince me that I should blow all my savings or mock me for wanting to move out at eighteen, as if either of them were still living at home with their parents at my age! Their attempts are however, having the opposite effect, instead of killing my drive to strike out at the world on my own, they only help to fan the flames. Their cheep tactics only make me want to move out all that much more, so I will not have to deal with their issues or problems any longer.

Motivation For Moving Out


Oshawa, Canada

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Artist's Description

This is my first memoire, written for writer’s craft. I hope it doesn’t sound to ranty… It’s a bit on the longside as well…



Artwork Comments

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