Excuses?

People don't get it when I say that my family is the most amazing and frustrating part of my life. No one else supports and loves me the way that they do - unconditionally, constantly, patiently, and completely. As a collective, they truly do "get me."

But they're needy. That's where the frustration comes in.

Case in point: Plans. I can never keep them.

I've been conditioned to walk away from people and situations with the quickness and ease of a misguided misanthrope. My father, who taught me that it's preferable to walk away from uncomfortable-yet-promising situations, laid the foundation of this unfortuate mindset. My mother, whose lack of common sense, intelligence and physical coordination keep her way behind the curve, further fueled the unfavorable thoughts. Together, they form a tag-team of total distraction: I make plans, set goals, start working toward them, then Mom mentions that she has only four dollars left in her bank account, wants to work a double shift, and needs me to pick her up from work; Dad guilts me with talk of his own unfulfilled ambitions. This happens in different variations ad nauseum, and knowing that my parents have good intentions, I find myself relegating my ambitions to the realm of coulda-shoulda-wouldas in favor of being a "good daughter." My father, who is more liberal than his counterparts, ultimately rejoices in the idea of his daughter being safely banal; he enthuses over the events.

There have been so many plans, goals, dreams that have been deferred for my family's sake. Not just social events, but ambitions of grandeur: a desire to start a nonprofit organization, designs to fling myself fully into fiction writing, hopes of making my mark on poetry, journalism, and politics (to name a few). Though I've been lucky to start many of these ventures and end them in my own terms, I haven't had more use for them than experience for experience's sake. Goals haven't been reached, my idea of success has never been accomplished - and every time this happens I wonder what keeps me from them.

I'm hoping that in leaving my folks in New York to fend for themselves, I'll slough off the remaining proof of their negative influence, as well as the pattern of co-dependency that they reenforced. I also want to distance myself physically and emotionally from other people who unintentionally weigh me down. Only then will I know for sure if I have been the reason behind my shortcomings, or if circumstances are truly to blame.

As I step into a world that feels blindingly bright, beautiful and new, I approach each situation by asking a single question: Are you gonna hold me back, too?