KYOKO HAS A BLOG.: I just can't see the reason for me being born into this world is to grow up, create a little human, maintain a job to...

brain-food:

This is always how the beginning of arguments as of lately start with my parents. I’m the radical child. The black sheep. And if by radical and black sheep you mean the kid who is two years shy of being thirty who is unwed, without child, 500 sq ft studio living, and seeing that not changing anytime soon, then yes, you have found her. Hello, my name is Kyoko. 

Every single moment they each have alone with me the topic of “adulthood” gets brought up. It doesn’t matter what i have accomplished these last twenty-eight years, what matters is my end game to all of my shenanigans. Marriage. Babies. Husband. Wife. Mortgage. Dinner parties. Car pool. Show them some sign that maybe, just maybe, i might conform to what happily ever after is to them, not me.  Finally i sat down with them recently and explained my happily ever after, my end game, my whole “if you’re going to force me to have a 20 year life goal, here motherfucker, this is what it is” outlook. You would have thought i ripped out their heart, threw it on the dinner table, and told them i wanted to go to art school. Oh wait, i did go to art school. 

I refuse to believe that my parents wanted me to be another statistic in the lost American dream. I refuse it. I refuse to take them seriously when they call me every other week informing about a past ex or current friend getting engaged or having a baby, thinking this would nudge me in their direction. I will work to my very last bone and never be submissive to this idea they have for me. It’s not horrible, it’s not evil, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. That life of happiness is a beautiful one for those who want and try by all means to obtain it. It’s just not the one i see for myself and that should be okay with everybody else. At least, you would think. 

My banking account looks bare from time to time, some nights i have to refuse hanging out with friends because i can’t afford it, trips get pushed back, delays happen. But i’m doing this on my own. This life i picked out, the adventure, the traveler, the vagabond. I’m doing it all by myself and i’m proud of that. I’ll get exhausted, i’ll be grumpy, tired, achy, and without days off. But when i get to experience those big and little moments of true and utter freedom, sitting down with my parents to disappointed faces becomes tolerable. Letting them know my international dream is still very real in their American dream world. That i’m happy. Despite the very limited roots i have laid, being able to leave with only a suitcase to my name, makes me happy. I can’t tell them why, and neither them nor i will ever understand that. But they will eventually have to accept that, i already have.

It’s life - life is what you make of it, you live it every waking day.