A Hillsborough Community College Student Publication since 1978.
By Rachel Mahaffey
My mom gives my boyfriend very little respect. The audacity he has to leave me on Friday nights to play drums in his band infuriates her every cell. She has no problem expressing this in sarcastic comments. Her cynical comments that come within seconds of her disapproval follow with innocent smiles that calm my furiousness. “Never settle, Rachel.” She stresses every time I bring up marriage. “While he is in Europe, I’ll ﬁnd you a new boyfriend,” is a promise I have heard over and over again. Still, “He might not be the one,” is the phrase that irritates me the most.
Most ladies know that there is a time in a relationship when you ﬁgure out if “he is the one.” It is usually more of a feeling than a thought. I am pretty sure I have discovered my “one,” and the last thing I need is motherly disapproval.
“Thanks, Mom.” You are the best.”
However, under all of the sarcasm and condemnation, I ﬁnd a lesson. Expectations are meant to be ﬁlled. Dreams aren’t without purpose. Little girls dream of Barbie’s Ken as their Prince Charming, and my mom wants to be the one to ﬁnd my “Ken.” A Ken who will love, cherish, and put me ﬁrst among his passions. This is why I admire my mom so. She is willing to succumb to my imperfect rudeness (which is highly uncharacteristic of her) to show me that I should never, ever settle. Not for a man, not for a job, not for friends.
I know I am in control of my life. I am not to let life play me like a drum. I have dreams…a husband, not a good one; a job, but not one I love; and a relationship, not one I can count on. My mom won’t let me settle for the cheap imitation or the imperfect Ken. She will always push me to strive. “Thanks, mom.” “You really are the best.”