Dear parents worrying back home,
Even though I FaceTime you several days a week to say hi, and update you on my life, you can take just one look at my face and notice so many things.
Every time, you tell me or ask, Are you OK? You look tired. Are you happy? You need more rest. Please take care of yourself. So I’m writing this piece to let you know not to worry, I’m OK. I promise.
Sometimes, yes, I don’t have time to eat the healthiest meal. I either stress eat, or eat too little, or eat at such an odd time that it’s not distinguishable between dinner or breakfast (?). Sometimes my meal is simply a latte. But other times it’s a five-course meal from the buffet in the cafeteria.
I don’t get much sleep (but what college kid does? If you answered yes, go sit yourself back down, this is a rhetorical question). But most importantly, I’m enjoying myself. I’m busy, but I’m busy because I want to be. My naps may not be as long as I want them to be. My food may not be as good as your homemade dinners. My schedule may not have as many free periods as I would like, but it’s okay.
When I call you, it may be because it’s the only free time I have between classes or meetings. It may be because I just feel like seeing your face or hearing your voice, but of course I would never admit to that. When you see my dark circles, my unkempt hair, and I, in turn, see your concerned looks on the computer screen, I feel badly because I don’t want you to worry about me. I hope you know how much I appreciate you, and how often you worry about me. But I also hope you know that I am having fun.
I’m trying to live life to my fullest and take in new experiences each and every day. I’m learning how to be independent and responsible. So this person with the voice of someone who just woke up at 1 p.m., this person whose face broke out due to stress (or a chocolate binge), this person with droopy, tired eyes isn’t an unhappy person. It’s a person who’s figuring out how manage my life, and realizing that my parents’ job as caretaker of their children was the most difficult job an adult can have. (Damn, you have to worry about more than just yourself?) But I’m learning, and it’s OK because I’m learning from the best role models I could have asked for.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
P.S. I can make ramen on my own now (with a pot and everything)!
I wrote this piece to reassure my parents and all those who take their time to worry about their children who have moved away from home. But I also wrote this piece to tell the children of these parents that they think of you, and try to make them worry as little as possible. Let them know that you are happy (or not). Let them know of your good days, bad days, stresses, failures, achievements, and in-betweens. It’s futile to make them stop worrying completely, but let’s acknowledge that we know their worry is equivalent to love and reassure them that we worry back.
