An Open Letter To My Parents (And Manhattan)

...your little girl is growing up

Dear Mom and Pa,

Tomorrow I start college...it's move in day. The day that the Toyota hauls all of my pillows and jeans and coloured pens and not-so-colured wardrobe and a large majority of everything else I own to 110 E 14th St then a few hours later will drive away leaving me in a big new city to grow up and figure it out...fast.

That day. The day that I open the UPS delivered Urban Outfitters duvet cover and the sheets that I spent days making sure were the right ones at bedbathandbeyond.com and put them on an anonymous box spring in room 606a, the day that I have to wake up at 5:30am and be accountable for myself. They day that marks me needing to make sure I get to class on time and eat three (reasonably) decent meals a day. The day that begins a new era of Mom not being able to tell me not to buy yet another grey t-shirt and Pa not being there to make sure I don't share my life story with the cab driver. Tomorrow starts me having to budget my money (I don't really need that second grande latte with an extra shot).

Tomorrow, I move to New York City. So Manhattan, I'm kinda counting on you to help me figure this out. I need you to tell Mom that I have her rules committed to memory and that I will be ok, I need Pa to cross the bridge on the way home and know that 'Papa's little girl and Papa's little pearl' will see you every other week and wouldn't dare turn down a fancy dinner or a hotel shower when you come to visit. I need you to make sure to tell them that I know you're a big and bad city in a big and bad world where there are mean people and scary things and that despite having experienced a city that's been more Gossip Girl than 24 when we go as a family, you and I are going to do this together.

You, my friend Manhattan, have given my grandparents a home, my mom a language, and my uncle a team to root for. You have given my dad a job and me so many memories. Now it's your turn to take care of me. I don't deny being raised in the best way possible by the best human beings who somehow were able to teach me about the scary and the dirty and the unglamorousness of reality without forcing me into it head first without a safety net, but that doesn't mean that I'm not nervous. I am nervous. Very.

But by the same subway token, that nervousness doesn't mean that I'm not ready. I am ready.

Please tell Ma that I'm sorry that she's lost sleep and she's nervous but I am excited and I can do this. I need her to have faith in me. I need them both to. They will both be the most important figures in my life till the day I die no matter how our bond grows.

Tell Ma that she's my role model, and Pa's my best friend, but for me to be able to do this and get the most out of it I need them to trust me.

They know me better than I know myself...especially Pa because we are the same person (besides the potbellied-ness and rapidly receding hairline). And this is going to be hard.

I have a debilitatingly strong conscious so I am going to have to force myself not to call home when I spend five dollars on a yogurt or accidentally am late to class. I need you to tell them that I love them so so so much but I need to grow up on my own too which means making mistakes otherwise I will never learn.

And I'm scared.

And a perfectionist.

And I like to be right but as hard as it is...I am going to grow up and once in a while I might wear the wrong outfit or eat an entire box of jellybeans or get a sweater that I can't afford or maybe even kiss someone I'm not supposed to.

I might stay out late or stay in when I should be out, I may push people away and I may trust someone I shouldn't, I may get lost, I may fail a test, I may dance in a way I am not supposed to, I may judge too quickly.

There are so many things that could happen and I am just as nervous as you, but this is life and life is scary and messy and full of mistakes, but I need them to trust me and to have faith that they have both raised me so well.

I'm a good kid.

I really am.

I love you always,

S