Confessions of an Overprotected Daughter

Therese Marie A. Villarante

THE only thing standing between me and bachelorette bliss are parents who cannot sleep unless they know I’m under the same roof.

I texted my parents that I was going out because I was having dinner with friends I haven’t eaten with for months already. I had to beg because it’s mandatory procedure that I inform them a day before or a week, depending on the scale of this ‘hang-out’.

It was great talking and taking pictures with them, realizing how I missed everyone so much. Unfortunately papa texts that they were picking me up at 8. 8 pm in barkada time is appetizer to a supposedly good Casa Verde meal. So I hang on to the minutes aware that I’m about to leave, about to change into my pajamas, stare at the computer screen, and wait for the pictures to be uploaded on facebook to see which parts I missed out on.

That’s been my life so far. Mostly never able to finish a party, usually having things halfway. Coming early, waiting in line for the show, feeling the magic, only to be catching my breath to get in our car as fast as possible because curfews are strictly observed. Bend the rules and I’d have less of a social life! And I’m driven away from the coliseum looking out for the fireworks I’m sure would happen much later in the program.

It is very disappointing. You see all your friends, younger than you, effortlessly call their parents to say they’re coming home late. No stress, no hassle. You hear them making plans and saying yes without having to check with the folks. Sometimes you feel like you’re just ruining things for the group, giving out goodbyes when the entire scene is far from over and possibly the height of a good story. My least favorite of all is when I am told that maybe my parents don’t trust me. I don’t get it. They say they do. Every purpose I’ve had with having fun is so clean, it’s sterile. I don’t drink, smoke, intend to get a tattoo, and apparently have no boyfriend. Nothing even close to a romance. Social life, love life…it’s all becoming clear to me now. What I lack can be attributed to overprotective parents. Kidding asides, they say it’s just a conflict of schedules. They say it’s just not safe to ride jeepneys and cabs at night. I’m trying to understand.

My parents are doing something right. This is in no means bragging but they did right raising me and my brothers. I’ve never danced with my friends in a bar yet I have best friends who relate exactly to my definition of fun. I’ve never learned those sexy Jagger moves or have the smoothness to attract the opposite sex but that wouldn’t be ME. Given the time at home, to be allowed late for purposes of work, and spend the most serious, entertaining hours reading books, watching movies, and listening to
music allowed me the chance to be confident about what I want and who I want to be.

I’ve learned to be so specific with my emotions that I’d be so engrossed at each one.

I’d laugh, cry, smile, sigh and talk to fictional characters because I’m involved in them. I’ve mastered the art of getting goosebumps when it’s beautiful to my heart and realizing how something, someone is beautiful to you is one of the most satisfying joys in the world. Given time to ponder in my room, I’m actually turning out to be a responsible human being who will most likely still get lost in Cebu but at the very least, has found herself and people who are the qualities of home.

I think my parents are unfastening parts to my schedule though. They’re just two people who’ve been watching me grow up, and it should be hard to let me grow up in places I’ll come to choose without them. It should be hard if they stopped one day, and I’m in the mood to be annoyed. No one in this entire universe is going to pick me up as much as my parents have. No one is going to call me as much as my parents, or ever worry like them. I’m in no prison. I wear no chains. I have a cellphone that’s not entirely useless. I have a well-provided vehicle that saves me money for more books. I have love tied around me everywhere I go. I can take care of myself but I’ll always let them do that too.

But if the treatment is the same ’til I’m 24, I promise I’m going to hold a parent-daughter conference. I’ll tell them that most concerts happen at night and don’t end at around midnight. I’ll need this to fuel my passions and dreams. Going to these events will mean meeting artists who will inspire me more. Miscellaneous gatherings will be okay because it is necessary, my crush will probably be there but I’ll be polite and demure. And because I am ready for what they’ve been preparing me for. Everything.

I’m sure to understand better when I become a parent. Not soon, I promise. Then it’ll be, confessions of an overprotective mother.