Little girl in a big girl apartment

So, I had found my new big gal apartment, everything should have gone smoothly from there... right?  Not exactly.  I had to cut the metaphorical umbilical cord.  My mother and I have an odd relationship.  I've always thought that we were close, but then I take think on it, and there are some unspoken boundaries.  She has all these wonderful hopes and dreams for me.  She believes in me more than anyone else.  I have always felt the pressure of those hopes and dreams though, they seem to be a giant weight that I carry with me.  Whether it's competing with my brothers or just trying to compete with myself, I always wanted to please my mother.

In the times that I knew I may disappoint her, I had a tendency to omit details.  Instead of sharing and comfortably discussing the disappointments and joys of life, I avoided.  I joke that my mother and I have a policy similar to the recently revoked, "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."  I know she loves me something fierce and that makes it all the more difficult to disappoint.

When I found my new apartment, I knew I'd be disappointing my mother.  When I lived at home, my mom and I were great company for each other.  My parents are happily married, but friends I am not so certain of. With me around, my mom had a built in friend, she had company, someone to talk to, and I had someone to always rely upon.  But, it was time for me to move out.  I did not handle the decision like the big gal I wanted to be in my new apartment.  I sprang things on her at the last minute and I avoided sharing details.  Naturally, like any awkward breakup, her feelings were hurt, she lashed out passive aggressively and we continued the dance of avoidance.  My reaction to her hurt feelings was to become upset with the injustices of her reactions and to lash out right back.  I kept feeling justified in my actions believing that I was it was appropriate for a 30 year old to move out of her parents house.  I excused my bad behavior with pathetic and poor logic.  But, alas, I did it.  I packed up the uhaul and drove myself to my big girl apartment feeling inappropriately justified in my poor behavior.  I had achieved independence, but at what cost?  This was no way to be a big girl.

Once at my apartment, it took us several weeks to heal our deep wounds and find our way back to each other.  There was no overt apologies, but I knew she had forgiven me as only a mother could forgive her child.  My mother's and my relationship may never be perfect, but I am trying to be a big girl.  I am trying to realize that if I want an honest and real relationship with her I have to allow her the chance to be disappointed in me, or else she doesn't know know who I am.  I'd like for my mother to know and love the real me, flaws and all.