It has occurred to me in these few days that people are worried about me. Well, not all, but my family. They seems to be handling poorly my decision to move and yet again change my life. This makes me wonder, why is it different this time around? As you already know this isn’t first time, not even second. And to be honest this time has been easiest for me. Can that be the factor why it is so hard to my family? The fact it has become easier to me leave them?
This time is different for me too. This time i actually have social network in the city i moved in, this time there are some people i know and also relatives around. Why weren’t people worried about me when i left to Åland? I didn’t know anyone, nor did i know the language. Or did i just fail to recognize the worrying then because i was more anxious myself? Either way, it makes me wonder my relationship towards other people and towards my family.
I’m not much of a talker when it comes to sharing my feelings with people. (And still whining about my feelings in internet, makes sense right!) My family isn’t exception. Something i maybe should work on... it is not that i don’t want them to know what i do and with whom, but i also know i don’t want them to be worried about nothing. You know, what you don’t know cant hurt you. This made me sound really fishy, didn’t it.
Over the years i’ve become lazy. I really don’t like to talk on phone, and the generation of my parents aren’t much of a text message writers. So, i fail to stay in touch a bit. Does that make them worried? Even if my family knows me, and they know that everything is fine as long as i don’t call.
It tells something about the relationship we have when my mother sends me a postcard: ”Welcome home for Christmas”.
I was more worried about my self before this decision. I was trapped and felt no joy out of work, and for workaholic like I am that is bad. Works is big part of my life and my daily routines, of course I sometimes dream that I wouldn’t have to work, but I also know that if the situation came, I still would work on something. I had dreams what would I be when I grow up. Chef really wasn’t the end game. The fact is, I need to work on something in order to feel useful. It really doesn’t matter how much money I get from it. Of course it would be nice to get good money out of the work but if the money wasn’t the issue I still would work. It is just something that is build in me.
Even just now, I hardly came to ”home” to sleep a little and now heading back to work, and at least now it feels good because I’m learning something every day. Summary from all this rambling: It’s been a long time since I felt this good, so it must be it that I’m doing fine. No need to worries, even tho it is helluva cute when people are worried about me.
Strong and independent woman drops mic!
