My mom got promoted a month ago. After waiting for Heavens-know how long, she finally got the promotion that she genuinely deserves. It was a very liberating day in our household when she broke the news to us. Safe to say that it felt as if a dark cloud that coloured our days for the past years finally decided to dissipate and leave us to be.
But with her promotion comes new responsibilities. We knew that this was coming, and we knew that her busy schedule is a delicate subject. Her days are plastered with random calls from her bosses. She comes home late every night, usually leaving the office at 10 pm rather than her usual 7 pm. We rarely have dinner together anymore because she’s just not there. And meetings are scattered throughout the weekend. It was a hard thing to see as we were all scared she might work herself to death. But she was happy, and that’s all that matters.
Needless to say, the entire family has been nothing but supportive of her. We make sure that her agendas come first. Whatever familial activity we want to embark in must not clash with her effervescent meetings — so long and so forth. My sister and I tried our best to keep our mom motivated throughout her heavy workload. To us, she’s the epitome of what we want to be in the future: dedicated, resilient, and successful (albeit having some troubles in getting that promotion).
So what’s the point of this writing, you may ask? Well, it actually started as me writing down about how much I miss hanging out with my mom. I specifically miss our weekend routine when we would go on a nice jog around GBK. We would then end the day with a nice dinner in some restaurant where we unironically already memorize the menu. However, it then became something a tad bigger. This writing is about me realizing that I would have become a much different person if my mom got her promotion years ago.
Our guestroom has become my mom’s office for the past few months now. Whenever I bother her when her head is stuck between meetings or academic journals, she would always say, “Not now, sweetie.” Adult-Audrey gets pretty upset whenever she hears this. On the one hand, she fears that her mom is overworking herself, hence making her more tired and prone to any sickness — something that is now scarier due to the pandemic. On the other hand, as she is a selfish person who craves attention and has no physical contact with any of her friends, this seems like blatant rejection.
But, adult-Audrey also understands why her mom is busy. She understands why her mom has to stay focussed in all the back-to-back meetings and why she has to take that one-hour-long phone call from her colleagues. Adult-Audrey is also a mature person who has tasted a glimpse of what organizational business feels like. She acknowledges all the reasons why her mom can’t hang out with her anymore.
Oh God, I sound like a total mommy’s girl. But who am I to blame? I haven’t been able to meet anyone throughout the pandemic. And I’m lucky enough to consider my mom and my sister as my best friends. So, is it really wrong for me to want to hang out with them?
I think that’s the primary key here: friends. Truth be told, I have never been that comfortable with the term ‘friends’ for… forever, I guess. I still think that I’m not a fun person to be friends with, that I will never bring anything new to the table when it comes to making friends. I know people, that is true. And they know me, too. But I don’t think that they deem me a friend, rather a mere acquaintance who mutually follows each other online. Sparking conversations with friends is scary to me because I’m always wondering if I make any sense, or if I’m hoarding the conversation a little too much. I never know what to say when left alone with someone who already considers me as a friend, but I know nothing off.
Either way, I don’t do well with people.
But, I am doing much better than I had years ago.
I am now much more comfortable with the little circle of friends that I have in collection. I have accepted the fact that I am that “shoulder-to-cry-on” type of friend, rather than the one you ask to go on adventures with. I also understand that maybe my view in friendship will always be like this until I die. A sad realization, of course, but at least I have come and made peace with it. It would take more than an estranged tug for me to come tumbling down like a sandcastle.
So what does this have to do with my mom and her job?
Well, I started to think on what it would feel like to hear the words, “Not now, sweetie.” from my own mother when I was still a (much more) insecure person. Imagine having little to no grasp on what friendship is when you were still in middle school — when you’re entire world revolved around the thought of being accepted by the people at school. Imagine feeling as if no one wanted you. And then you run home to the people who were obligated to love you, and you were given nothing but a cold shoulder and an empty promise telling you you’ll be accompanied later on in the day. The promise remains open as weekends upon weekends, your family is continuously busy and leaves no time for you.
If that were how things worked out, I think I would’ve gone mental. I’m pretty sure that teenage-Audrey would feel so lonely and loveless. She would grow up to be cynical and closed-off. Or maybe she would grow up with her heart on her sleeves, throwing herself to every single person that comes into her life. Either way, she would become so destructive, and that thought scares me so much.
So, I guess the main gist of this story is that I’m glad I’ve grown into a much more understanding and mature person. I’m so happy that I became a bit more selfless and threw away my irrational fears. I still wish that my mom had gotten her promotion aeons ago. But maybe it was also for the best that she only becomes busy now, right when everyone else is too busy and understands the meaning of responsibility.
I realize that my life and story is far more privileged than some other people. I should be grateful that I can be comfortable with my own family and see (some of) them as my friends. I should be thankful that my parents still have jobs. I should be grateful that I still can go to school and meet new people, regardless of how they end up feeling about me. I should be grateful.
And I am.
But the things I would trade just for a happy moment with my family… Even I’m scared of admitting how far I would go just for that. And I know I’ll get it someday — a day where everyone is free and happy and ready for an adventure. But as of right now, I guess I just have to tell myself, “Not now, sweetie.”
