Parents

I love my parents. It's human instinct and it is often the case a child will love their parents, whether they realize it or not. Sometimes they love their parents so much that they are willing to put aside abuse, in all different forms and still seek that love back. It also works vise-versa. Parents probably show their love for their children more (for the most) and are able to forgive, so on and so forth.

My mother and myself are no exception. We love each other, at least, I think we do, but neither of us are perfect. We both make mistakes. My mother sometimes doesn't exactly raise me in the way I wish she did and I sometimes disappoint her by doing something wrong or talking back or not tidying my room. All very trivial things. And all of that is part of my growing into a responsible-ish adult. Hopefully.

Of course, as I have said, along the way I am going to make mistakes. It is nearly certain I will "cock" up often. Break the rules. Most likely experiment. And recently, I have had this opportunity. I had the opportunity to go our and get drunk, for one night, with my friends, just for the experience. I took up this offer after much deliberation and a close friend of mine, who knew this was probably his only chance to see me drunk as I was never planning on doing it again, planned the whole thing for me so it'd be fun and and safe as possible with little chance if getting caught.

I spend hours with moral dilemma of whether I should drink or not on my hands and for a long time I was excited and looking forward to experiencing it because I knew it was a one time thing and even though the dangers and bad things that could occur were ultimately going to, if they actually happened, out weight whatever the experience felt like at the time, it was just going to feel so good whilst it lasted. To rebel that little bit from my really quite boring life. Of course, I have it good but I also lead a mundane existence of being a mummy's girl, getting good grades and always, or at least, most of the time, doing what she said. Every time I did step a foot wrong, or rebel slightly it would always turn out bad for me and I would get scared and return to my mother, who would, in turn comfort me and make me feel guilty while making it all better. Thus our relationship would grow stronger, I'd have more respect for my mother and learn another valuable lesson; take a step farther towards being a responsible adult.

This time was supposed to be different. I had put aside all of the reasons that had instantly clouded my mind; impress friends; test limits; simple, mindless fun. I had focused on the one real reason why I had arranged all of this. I wanted to explore myself. It was as simple as that. I wanted to see how far I would bend my morals. The drinking wasn't the event that was most important. It was the lead up to my decision. Just because I had said, yes, I would go and drink didn't mean I actually would. It just meant I had to actually put my thoughts into practise, and fast. Jump in head first, or back out.

I had asked my friends, I had checked how to keep safe and I had come to the conclusion that I would drink, that it would be fun, I'd only do it this once and that I'd stay safe and only drink a bit. I'd prepared myself for what I thought was the worst situations I figured could happen; Social awkwardness because is something I said or did whilst drunk; Sleeping with someone whilst drunk and all the repercussions of this action; and getting caught. I wasn't planning on doing any of these things but I knew there was a slight chance of all of these things, and more. Nonetheless, I was excited and started to spend more time with this close friend of mine who had planned it all for me so we could make sure it all went to plan.

My mother, as you can imagine, isn't fond of him because I tell my mother almost everything about my life (In fact, I was planning on telling her about this once it had happened anyway, even if it all went to plan despite how she'd get me into trouble because we're that close. I would have told her before hand but she wouldn't have let me go, you see. I did try to tell her and ask her permission but he wasn't up for me just going camping for one night never mind introducing drink hence the secrecy) so she knew about all of his similar escapades. All of his girlfriends and everything he'd done with them. He knew I'd told obviously because he knows I tell my mother these things. He was fine with that, as long as I didn't tell other people in school and whatnot.

She got upset with me for spending more time with him this holidays and suspected I'd been smoking and drinking, even though I hadn't which is ironic really. She'd smell my breath and everything. Question why I was checking my appearance in the mirror. It was quite annoying but I put it down to her being a worrier. She decided to tighten the reins and demanded she knew exactly where I was at all times even though I always told her exactly where I was going anyway. Unless she was at work in which case I couldn't tell her as it was the holidays and I wasn't going to stay in just because she was working. Plus, she let my brother who is only two years older than I go out practically wherever and when ever he wanted without knowing where he was. But for some reason none of this was good enough for her so she gave me a curfew of six o'clock. In the afternoon. Whilst the sun was still out. That meant I had to leave at half past five, if not earlier. This angered me slightly but I let it slide.

I stuck to this curfew and whatnot. In fact, I mostly stayed in.

The day of the camp out and drink-athon was fast approaching. In fact, it was only three days away. Well, three sleeps. It was about three and a half days away. I was rather excited. All my worries had been erased by my close friend, the one who arranged it. I was nervous, but in a good way. I still had some doubts but they were close to nothing; insignificant thoughts in the back of my mind.

I was on the computer when that all changed. I was talking to more responsible and very very close friends of mine. They also got good grades like myself and were against the urge to drink I was pursuing but didn't want to upset me so had advised me not to but other than that decided to stay away from it and hope I came to my senses with a gentle nudge in the right direction. So, we were on MSN just talking. It was Sunday. Therefore, one of them had been to church and was in a religious mood and so our conversation turned to religion. We all have different religions. I am slightly Islamic (this occurs when your grandparents are properly Islamic but moved to Britain and their daughters grew up there and become influenced by western culture, therefore becoming not-so-islamic and passing that on to their children. At least, in my case) I know the basics and I try to follow it most of the time but I am not very good at it. I keep on promising myself to get better but I never do. Nonetheless I believe and I do try to be a good person. One of my two friends, the one who had been to church, is Protestant. (She isn't a really strict Protestant but she goes to church and stick to almost all the rules. Most of them. Of course, she had some disagreements. For instance, like myself, she doesn't agree with the way her religion is against homosexuality. We both believe that people shouldn't be persecuted for race, religion, sexuality, appearance or any other sort of thing people may have prejudice against. That's not to say we are perfect and don't judge people. We are human and have probably at one time or another done it without thinking but we don't agree with it and try not to.) For name's sake, we shall call her Cathy.
The third shall be called Cat, for name's sake. She does not have a religion . In fact she is atheist. This leads for some interesting debates at lunch times but that is besides the point.

Because Cathy had been to church she was in a religious mood and discussion soon turned to it. Cathy and I became rather caught up in it all and started to feel that nice warm feeling you can get when you really believe in something. It gets you all choked up and it's nearly impossible to describe. Cathy was feeling like that and by coincidence I was trying to explain to Cat why I sometimes felt sorry she didn't get this feeling. Suffice to say, by the end of both conversations with each friend which eventually become one shared conversation between the three of us, I decided not to drink for religious reasons. I think they had planned it all along but there you go.

I was till going to go camping as my friend had put so much effort into it and I felt guilty but I had really built a resolve not to drink and just have fun whilst keeping an eye to make sure they were safe. It felt really good and was the closure I was looking for all along. All that was left to do was go on this camping trip and decline the alcohol, leaving me feeling proud and self assured. This revelation kept me on a high for the rest of the night and most of the next day. Until the fateful time came where I actually had to lie to my mother. I wasn't looking forward to it but it was necessary. I called her and asked to stay over at a friends house. She said no. All because my friend stayed in a dodgy area. This riled me up. She wasn't even going to let me do a perfectly normal thing. I begged and pleaded but she stayed adamant. My friend, via Facebook, told me to rebel and tell her to her face to face that I was going to my mate's no matter what she said but I am very non-confrontational person and couldn't do it.
It made me so angry that my mother would repress me like that. She thinks she's protecting me, helping me grow up into a responsible adult but I was already almost there myself. I still have time to rebel. Two days to be exact. And I can't help but wonder if I should tell her everything, and just rebel. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager. And so, I'm putting it forth to you. What should I do? Don't worry if you get back to me after the time limit, I still want to know your opinions.