I know everyone wants to be spoilt by their parents, uncle's, etc In high school I do hear a lot of my friends telling me how the uncles and mum or dad buys gift for them, pay their school fees, etc See, I'm not against that at all I do love to be spoilt too but some extent.
There's this thing about my mom buying things for me; call it a quirk. Sure, she's got that mom-knows-best vibe, but truth be told, her choices and mine seldom aligned. I found myself yearning for the freedom to curate my own style, picking out things with the hard-earned money I managed to hustle. It's not rebellion; it's more like asserting my boss-girl autonomy. Back at 14, navigating that tricky terrain between adolescence and independence, maybe the adolescent haze was just playing tricks on my head.
But anyways, I always yearn to one day walk to the supermarket and buy something with the money I made but I at that time I'm still a high school student with no part time job. I wondered how that could happen. Sounds difficult right?
One evening, I returned home from school, cradling a jar of hair cream in my hands, a small treasure I had carefully saved for. As I handed it to my mother, astonishment painted her face in vivid hues. Her eyes flickered with a mix of shock and disbelief, wondering how I, her 14-year-old, could manage such a purchase.
In an attempt to dissolve her suspicions, I revealed my secret – the pocket money Dad generously provided daily for snacks had become my silent accomplice in acquiring this simple indulgence. However, instead of dispelling doubts, my explanation seemed to fuel her skepticism.
She wasn't really convinced that she thought maybe her 14 years old child is now going about collecting money from guys.
Her scolding words echoed in the room, leaving me with a heavy heart. The air was thick with the weight of judgment, casting a shadow over my innocent intention. Despite my father's attempt to intervene and vouch for my honesty, her doubt lingered, painting my choice of self-expression as misguided.
Retreating to my room, I set my bag down with a sigh, the weight of misunderstanding settling on my shoulders. In that moment, I learned not just the sting of misplaced suspicion but also the heavy burden of societal expectations that could shroud even the simplest joys in a cloud of unwarranted doubt.
To be sincere, my first independence experience made me angry and disappointed.
When I say this affected my view of choice I really meant it.
Most times I hardly believe that I can make a good decision for myself. Although the first experience of feeling independent wasn't good, it didn't stop me from desiring that feeling. As I grew up into a young beautiful woman I kept imagining life where I could go and get whatever I want, live freely, I used to imagine going to the supermarket and buying not only what I need but whatever my family needs with the beaming smile of gratitude written all over their face. This always made my heart beat and fortunately for me things are already working as I wanted.
The first satisfying experience of feeling truly independent was when I got my first job and got my first pay from the job. Excitement was written all over my face. I felt on top of the world, I felt I had arrived at my desired destination. At that moment no one was to query me on how I got the money or if I went to buy something for myself because I worked for my money.
This independent mindset has helped me greatly growing up. I hardly rely on my parents' relatives for any financial help except for the ones that are above what I can handle at that moment and I really love the feeling of being a boss lady.
