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I’m sick and tired of everyone thinking I’m small. I am 16 years old. And every morning it starts:

– Ksyushka-daughter, go wash your face.

Later:

– Ksyunya, go eat.

– Xenia, wear a scarf.

– Xenia, don’t forget the diary.

– Ksyusha, you’re wearing the wrong shoes.

Parents, dear ones. I am in the 10th grade. I want to wash, eat, and tie my scarf by myself, without your prompting. You see, my classmates laugh at me when they see me going to the store with my mother. I know my mom has to help me shop, but I can do it by myself. I can buy potatoes and sugar and butter and whatever else I want, not under my mother’s supervision. And I don’t have to stop in the middle of the store to prove to me that I’m the stupidest because I bought the wrong loaf.

Parents, dear ones. I am in the 10th grade. I want to wash, eat, and tie my scarf by myself, without your prompting. You see, my classmates laugh at me when they see me going to the store with my mother. I know my mom has to help me shop, but I can do it by myself. I can buy potatoes and sugar and butter and whatever else I want, not under my mother’s supervision. And I don’t have to stop in the middle of the store to prove to me that I’m the stupidest because I bought the wrong loaf.

You see, I want to learn how to buy what I need, how to cook everything, and what I need to do around the house. Yes, maybe I’m not good at everything, but don’t nag me like I’m five years old. These are my mistakes and I will eat or not eat my own burnt porridge. I’m very afraid that if I don’t get out from under such strong tutelage, I won’t be able to do things right for my family in the future.

Honestly, I look at the weather outside myself. And if I don’t want to wear a scarf, it’s only because you, Mommy, tell me to. I would wear it myself, but not without feeling like a helpless and stupid five-year-old.

I recently got a job as a cleaner in a night café. So what! What’s the big deal? I just wanted to earn my own money for a trip to St. Petersburg. But no, my mother made such a fuss, as if I had already been raped and killed there, and my father shouted so much that the upstairs neighbors came running. And after that they want me to tell them where I’m going and what I’m going to do? No, I’d rather lie that I’m going to write an essay for Irka.

I know that my parents mean well, maybe I, too, when I grow up, will take care of my daughter in the same way. But right now I don’t think I will. Because you have to learn from something, even from your own mistakes. I just don’t need to be scolded for every step and told that I’m doing everything wrong. If necessary, I will ask for parental advice myself, but only if I know that it will be advice and not a showdown about my misbehavior.

I know that some of my classmates also have such problems, and I ask all parents to understand that happiness is not in telling the whole world that your child is a rascal and a helpless kid, but happiness is in quietly and peacefully, without scandals and accusations, to pass your life experience to your son or daughter. And do not be surprised that children leave their parents too quickly. No one likes to be considered a little fool all the time.

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Comments to: Tired of being small
  • 09/29/2021

    My mother, as I thought at the time, overprotected me. But at the age of 14 I was “blown away. And I started proving that I didn’t need such care, in “right” and “effective” ways: I started smoking, dyeing my hair red, skipping school, swearing, fighting, going out with guys. At 18, I got married and had a daughter. How much nerves, energy and blood was lost in fights with my parents on this occasion, I will not describe, perhaps, because they categorically did not like my husband then, now – I do not know, but externally all seems to have settled down. Now I am 22 years old, I graduated from university, my husband and I work and rent a room in a dormitory, but there is hope and prospect of getting my own place.

    I proved my “adulthood” to everyone, but in adulthood you have to solve adult problems and take responsibility: for your actions, for your children, at work.

     I wanted to be an adult, and I became one, but sometimes I want to hide behind my mother’s skirt or my father’s back; I want to go back and not do certain things, not say certain words that were said.

    Xenia, you will have time to become an adult, and you will be able to prove everything you want to others, but my advice is this: choose methods for this, for which you will not be ashamed later. And in general, adult life is not always as beautiful as it seems to us in our youth, sometimes it is a pain, and at 22 you sometimes feel tired and well-lived aunt.

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