One of the reasons why I moved countries was to escape my family. I don't talk about it much with anyone since it hurts. I chased who I thought was my dream, and he dumped me as soon as he saw me. Well, I was already dumped before coming here. Stupid me for not reading it clearly, for being too in love with the idea of chasing love when it, he, didn't want me anyway. But I'm here now. That happened months ago. I've settled down. And I don't want to go home.

My family hated the idea of Rick. They never met him so they judged him by the way he made me laugh and cry, the latter happening more often. While I'm above 18 (heck, above 21!), my Mom wanted me to stay and not let my broken heart fuel my journey. I knew where she was coming from, but I wanted to do it. It was my money, my life anyway. It started out as a talk over dinner, than a full-blown fight, with me slamming my bedroom door and she praying the rosary. Nobody had dessert.

It's my older brother who's more understanding. He's not that digitally connected so pricey monthly phone calls are all we have when catching up. He says Mom's fine, she just tells other people that I found a better job here. I tell my brother I do have a better job and that I am happy, then tell him about Harry and Ashley and Jason and my home. He tells me Mom misses me even if she doesn't say it. I ask her why she's so spiteful every time I try to call her.



"Why don't you just come home,?" she told me last week, when I called for my older brother's birthday. "Is your job there paying you so highly you don't want to move back home? Or are you parading around Rick again?" The rest of the phone call had her spitting out so much negativity towards me I slammed down the phone. My brother called me back to apologize for her. She just couldn't handle her baby girl all alone in a foreign country, he says. I'M FINE, I stress. How the hell am I ever going to grow up in my Mom's eyes?

Oh mother, I wanted to tell her. I chased love flying here, and now I chase love calling home monthly, hoping we could understand each other a little better. Every time I try, my heart just breaks into more pieces.


What I want is this: To patch things up with my Mom. To tell her, heck, CONVINCE her that I'm doing well here. I've got good friends, a good job, a good guy, and a good home. It's not fantastic, but I'm happy. I could be happier if she understood all that.

Is it difficult for her to accept that I'm happy even if I'm not where she is?