I am a worrier. Always have been and probably always will be.
When my roommate leaves when I’m not there, and doesn’t give me any indication of
where she went, I can’t help but be concerned and curious. I am the type of
person that greatly appreciates the, “I won’t be coming home tonight,” or “I
went to a friend’s house for a bit,” texts. Otherwise I sit there worrying
about you and what you’re doing and where you are and who you’re with.
All that being said, I think this shows the kind of parent I
will be someday. I’ve always had this vision in my head of “the cool parent”
and what that would be like. I want my kids to be able to talk to me about
anything, and I want to be a good balance of strict and laid-back. But being
the way that I am, I know in reality that I will be the parent that stays up
late to make sure their kid gets home okay. I will want updates throughout the
night if they go to someone’s house after a football game. I will want to meet
their friends so I can judge their character. And even though this is not the
vision I had for myself as a parent, I think I’m accepting the reality that I
am who I am, and I can’t do much about that.
That’s the thing about people like me. We are anxious,
worried, paranoid, and hesitant, but we care. Sometimes too much, and sometimes
too fiercely. But we care.
