“…so i asked the maid what my mother usually does while i’m out and she told me she’d go through my drawers!”
“omg you know what? i once asked my mother if she thought that was acceptable and she said she’d do it if the opportunity arose! i’m 27 years old and she thinks it’s alright to invade my privacy!”
i have no illusions about having any secrets from my parents.
learned helplessness led me to leave my diaries openly displayed on my bookshelf (though admittedly it was a narcissistic thing – i wrapped them very nicely and wanted to admire my own work) and as a quiet observer of human nature, i knew there was very little we can hide from the people who have seen us at the best and worst of our lives.
as a teenager i scoffed at couples who thought their parents didn’t know about their relationship (and tried not to be smug when they got “caught”). these days i laugh hysterically whenever my mother suggests that i head down to singapore regularly to visit a secret boyfriend – good grief if there is actually a man who can look past the intimidating job choice, temper, excessive adipose tissue and decide that i am worth sharing a life with, i would shout it from the rooftops la none of that juvenile “let’s keep it quiet first kay?” nonsense – because she is totally underestimating her inbuilt mother radar if she’s even considering the possibility that i’d be able to hide anything of that sort from her! come on! when one of the tyres on my car burst and i replaced just the damaged one, i attempted to keep it from my father; he found out 3 weeks later.
i could only shake my head in amusement as the conversation above took place. it’s rather appalling that some parents consider it appropriate to ransack their daughters’ homes in order to find out what they’re up to, but it’s also naive to assume it’s possible to hide a relationship or the “extent” of a relationship (if you know what i mean) from your folks. still, i was disgusted at the notion of middle-aged women with so much time on their hands that they’d act on their distrust of their children and violate their personal space.
anyway, life as i know it is increasingly like a bad soap on the telly. nothing surprises me very much anymore. the amount of manipulation of people’s emotions and ironic little tragedies makes for very good reflection at times but mostly makes me feel more empty than i was before. perhaps it’s the transition that i’m facing now and the relationships i see breaking down in front of me, but melancholy has gotten hold on my heart.
it’s why i’m grateful for moments like the above, the exchange of stories too funny to be made up. some of us are still teenagers well into our twenties. haha.