The Troubles of Imperfection

I’ve always been a major perfectionist. When I was in Kindergarten, my teacher pointed this fact out to my mother. Mrs. Brown showed my mother where I had erased so much on my paper that it had holes. My mother worried that I would take this to an extreme and be a “worrier” in the future. She was correct. I’ve always worried myself to a frenzy over any little problem. I’ve tried to solve the problem, but it’s hard because of my grandmother. I’ve always felt like I had to “walk on eggshells” around her because she is always judgmental of everything I do. Since I have a very tenderhearted personality, it’s hard for me to let her know my thoughts and feelings.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you?” she shrieks.

“No, Grandmama.”

“Five weeks! Five! You’re staying too busy. What have you been doing every night? You need to be staying at home and getting rest. It’s not good for you to be running around all the time!” My grandmother was completely serious when she said that. She really thought that everyone should sit at home all the time unless it was necessary to be out. I was actively involved in high school with cheerleading and other extra-curricular activities, not to mention I had a social life as well. It didn’t matter though, nothing was ever good enough for her.

“Kelsey, you’re acting right aren’t you? You know right from wrong. You know you’re not supposed to sleep with boys before you’re married. How much time are you spending with this boy? Is he going to be able to take care of you?” My grandmother asked as she passed the mashed potatoes and gravy around the table. I always thought grandparents were supposed to spoil you and love you unconditionally. I suppose every family is different, but my family isn’t one to be harsh natured.

“Yes, Grandmama, I’m acting right. I’m spending enough time with him, but not too much that I can’t get my work done. If I was planning on marrying him I would worry about whether or not he could take care of me. Since I have no plans of getting married right now, I’m not going to worry about that.”

“Hmph” was the only response I got from her. However, that didn’t mean her speech was over.

“Well, I know you’ve been talking about going to college. You don’t need to. You just need to find a good husband that will be good to you and take care of you.” How do you respond to something like that? I would never choose to be taken care of by my husband. Moreover, I definitely would not lose the opportunity to go to college and get an education. Even though my parents told me to be respectful of my grandmother, I couldn’t let that one go.

“I want to go to college. I don’t want to have to depend on anyone else to take care of me. Who knows if I’ll even get married? Who’s to say that if I do get married, I won’t end up getting a divorce and having to provide for myself and two or three kids? Women can do more than be housewives.” Needless to say, that didn’t please her. Her eyes on me felt like needles piercing my skin. I could tell that my parents were mortified, and I was nervous. I could feel the beads of sweat building on my forehead. It felt like an eternity until she finally responded to me.

“You need to be saving your money. Any extra money you have needs to be put in savings in case you ever need it. I know you’re wasting all you make on running around and eating out. Eating out all the time is expensive. You’re living beyond your means. Just because other people are doing that doesn’t mean you have to.”

By this point, I was tired of the lecturing and complaining. I wanted to sprint out of that house as fast as I could. My temper was flaring and my heart was racing. Her beady eyes stayed on me the entire time. My parents were staring down at their plates waiting for my next move. I wanted to tell her how I hated her attitude and constant rants. How she made me feel like the scum of the earth every time I went to see her. I wanted to let it all out at that point. But, of course, I let it go.