"You're Okay"

For the past nine days, my mom has been away on vacation with no cell phone or internet access, and I'll admit I've been going through a bit of "Mom withdrawal." I know...I'm not three anymore. Rest assured, I no longer cry every time she drops me off someplace. I no longer pester her every time she goes out, insisting to know where she's going and what time she'll be home (as much). But I still wait for her to tuck me into bed, and I still rely on her to approve nearly everything I do or say. I rely on her to assure me I'm okay; that these jeans don't make me look fat and I'm not a b**** (all the time), that I'm doing enough and it's okay I ate the whole tin of candied walnuts and yes, this necklace looks good with this shirt. Ever since I was little, it has always been this way.

And I realize that it's not necessarily a good thing. These past nine days I was put to the test when Mom was gone. I couldn't talk to her every day to hear her tell me, "Yes. You should go sleepover your friend's house. It's vacation. You'll get your homework done later." I couldn't ask her if what I said was arrogant. I couldn't hear her tell me, "Tomorrow's another day. Don't beat yourself up over today. Just start again tomorrow." I couldn't hear her tell me that everything I was feeling was normal.

These past nine days, I had to rely on myself. When I looked in the mirror, I had to tell myself that I looked good. I chose to go to my friend's sleepover. When I ate four brownies (in a row) after a Coolatta from Dunkin' Donuts, I calmed myself down enough to realize that it's not like I do it every day; I would be better tomorrow...and if not tomorrow, the day after. (With all the leftover Christmas treats, it took a few days of this.) I chose to help out at play rehearsal even though I could've gone for a run, because I love being completely immersed in it. When I couldn't figure it out in my head, I journaled.

Mom came home tonight. These past nine days were a good experience for me, considering I'm going off to college in a few years and she won't always be there to rub my tummy when I'm sick. Regardless of the fact that I recognize it's important to rely on myself for assurance, I still gave her the rundown of my nine days. She told me what I already knew. She told me, "Tomorrow's another day. Don't beat yourself up over today. Just start again tomorrow." She told me everything I was feeling was normal.