I told them. I told my parents of my plans to cycle from Europe to Asia. I’ve hesitated for awhile to tell them, my traditional immigrant parents, about fulfilling this dream and what I’m I’ve been doing to make it happen.
My mother was giving me my haircut, its a tradition of ours whenever I come back home. This is our safe space. It hasn’t always been this way, I wasn’t always close to my mother. She is an immigrant who works hard to support her family. My mother knows I’m the odd one of the family, always off adventuring, wandering and never breaking stride until I achieve what I want. She gets it and I can see myself in my mother. Only difference being she grew up in the streets and I didn’t.
I told her. Told her about how I’m living out of my van since I’ve moved Seattle. The following day she told me she cried. Coming from the perspective of the mother I can see why but she understands. Just like the sacrifices she made, having a rough upbringing. My mother knows that I won’t choose the smooth path to get what I want, I never did.
That was the easy part.
My father on the other hand was the difficult one to tell. My mother calls him the “worrier,” losing sleep over his worries and “warrior” as he’s one of the most resilient and caring guys I know.
I hesitated several times before releasing the news to him. Out of the two he’s the homebody and doesn’t understand why I enjoy adventure. He instilled in me hard work and to not take bullshit. He whupped my ass plenty and I’m glad he did. He’s been my support and although I’m not following the path he wanted for me, I know for a fact that he’s proud of his son (I heard it from my mother, duh).
It feels good to let them know after many months of just brushing off their questions. They won’t ever stop telling me to settle down but at least I delayed it for awhile :).