Paper Assignment: Coming of Age

Still Attached
“I think it is best for you if you experience college on the mainland,” my mom said.
“I’m not sure about that. I know I can live away from you guys, but I don’t know if I want to,” I replied. I was so indecisive I could not decide. It made me sad to leave my family, however I felt a new excitement about becoming independent.
College is an important step in our lives and with that comes the final test of independence and responsibility, but right at this moment I realized where I stand. Am I still a girl or becoming a woman? Although there’s no fine definition I still consider myself as a girl. Some how my parents are still holding onto me with a dog leash around my neck and I’m standing right besides them under their care.
It would be hard to train a puppy without a dog leash because they don’t know right from wrong, wander everywhere, and have so many things to learn. Puppies learn from their mistakes after being scolded a couple of times. From the day I was born to this day, I am still that puppy. When I was a baby they controlled my every move: “Come on, Ashlyn say, Ma Ma,” my mom would say in a gentle, soft voice as she tried to get that word out of my little mouth. As I got older my parent’s became more repetitive: “Ashlyn, don’t run in the store!” and “Ashlyn, don’t play with your food!” they would demand. After being told what and what not to do I gradually learned from my own mistakes and did things on my own.
As I became a teenager, they still had a hold on me, however their grip loosened. Today, I still consider myself an eighteen year old high school girl. I am aware that I’m still very dependent on my parents for necessities, money, food, and much more. Every morning, my mom wakes up half an hour early to prepare breakfast and lunch for the day. Instead of waking up to milk and cereal on the table, I get the privilege of eating the warm and perfectly cooked scrabbled eggs with ham, hash brown, and rice.
Sometimes even a mature puppy tries to dart out, run away, and disobey, but the leash is still attached. At times being attached to the leash is annoying and I want to escape and run away. In many cases my first instinct is to do what I want to do, not what needs to get done.
I asked, “Mom, can I go out with my friends tomorrow night?”
“Look around you, the house is a mess. You have to contribute around the house, too,” my mom replied.
“No please, just this one time. I promise I will clean up later, “ I begged. The house was a mess. School books and bags piled on the kitchen table, laundry unfolded on the ground, and dirty dishes laid in the sink. My mom helps me realize what my priorities are and sets them straight. Even considering myself before taking responsibility around the house is selfish and naive. A part of being a woman is that she has to be responsible for her own actions. I know my parents do a lot of things they don’t want to do, but without complaining, they know what has to be done. As the puppy learns to trust and love, I learned to trust my parents also. Although I dread doing what my parents tell me to do, I know it’s only for my benefit in the future. So when my parents let go of the leash, they will have the confidence I know how to handle myself without getting run over. They trust that I will be disciplined enough without wondering into the streets.
As I become older, the farther and farther they let me stray away from them knowing I can make the right decisions on my own. My parents are progressively trying to let me go and take me off the leash, however at the end of the day I still wander right back to their side. I learned to respect the leash because it has a purpose of being my guide. With my parent’s control of the leash they are “training” me. So the day that I’m standing at the gate of the airport with my luggage behind me, waving goodbye is the day that the leash will be hanging from the trash. That will be the real test, if the past eighteen years on the leash as a girl was successful and I can begin my journey in becoming a woman.