For those of you who grew up with strict parents, I can assure you that life isn’t always greener on the other side. We all want what we can’t have, and although having lenient parents seems pretty awesome, it’s actually not at all what it’s cracked up to be. I’m thankful for my parents and how they raised me because I wouldn’t be who I am without them. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like if they cared a little harder and grounded me a lot more.

I’m seven and eight years younger than my brother and sister, making me the baby of the family, or what I consider, the mistake. So by the time my mom was done raising my two siblings, she was worn out and ready to treat me more like a friend than a daughter. I didn’t mind, though. I thought it was fun and cool to be able to smoke pot with her and have parties in the basement right under her nose while she slept. But that feeling of rebellion quickly faded when I realized that having a mom that doesn’t really care what you do, actually sucks.

I remember feeling jealous when my friends would get texts from their mom, asking them when they were coming home, what they were doing or who they were with. I never got that. I never had a curfew or went through a million questions before I went out. Half the time, I didn’t even tell my mom I was going out, sometimes on purpose so that I could force her into sending me a text questioning my whereabouts. But that was rare. When I was out with friends the only text I would get was “please be quiet when you get in” or “let the dog out before you go to bed.” I remember going to my junior homecoming and not hearing from my mom for over 24 hours. When I asked her why she never texted me, she said, “I didn’t want to interrupt your fun.”

When I was younger and would get in trouble, it never lasted. I would get my phone taken away for a couple days and then beg for it back, or I would just take the sim card out and put it in another phone. The rules, or lack thereof, were never enforced. There was never a curfew or a friend I couldn’t hang out with. I didn’t have to be home for dinner at any certain time because dinner was usually whatever I decided to make, which was typically cereal.

Having a mom that treats you more like a roommate than a daughter can be fun in the beginning, but then it just gets old. It means you do everything yourself. You become so independent that you can’t even rely on them for a ride to the airport or home from school. It means you buy your own shampoo and toothpaste and sometimes your own groceries, even when you’re home for Christmas break. It means that the shirt you asked her to wash for you sits in a corner for three weeks because she never got around to it. It means there is no monthly allowance for your books or bills. It means when your car needs fixed, it comes out of your wallet.

But that is the price I paid for having a mom that let me do whatever the hell I wanted growing up.

So when your mom asks you twenty questions before you go out with a boy or demands you come home for not apparent reason, just know that she loves you, she cares about you and she just wants to take care of you for as long as you let her. Don’t take it for granted.

By the way, I’m not trying to make my mom out to seem like a careless bitch or anything. She’s absolutely not. I know that she loves me. She talks about it on Facebook every day. It’s just she showed her love for me differently. She chose a different way of parenting, and I think I turned out pretty okay. My mom made me fiercely independent because she spoiled me with the ability to make my own choices and be in control of my own life, which is how I like to kindly put it. Because of her, I experienced my life to the fullest. I made stupid decisions and plenty of mistakes because of the freedom she gave me. Flannery O’Connor said nothing needed to happen in a writer’s life after they were 20. By then they’d experienced more than enough to last their creative life. And I have my mother to thank for that.

P.S. Mom if you’re reading this, I love you. Let’s smoke weed later.