So, after much angst, many nights conversing the subject, tears, snot and far too much stress, we finally had THE conversation. We sat down with Wes' parents and on the cool, he busted out with, "So dad, do you have any extra boxes at work?". And thus began the convo that I'm moving into his house. I wont lie, it felt like I was telling my parents I had a cocaine problem or that I robbed an elderly couple at knife point. I got the impression that our decision was disappointing to them. Although, Wes did help soften the blow with, "Oh, and you should start picking out grandkids names, cause that will be happening in about 6 months...two of them, and they may not be mine, they'll probably be black"
I don't know why, but it hurts my feelings so much to know that we disappointed them. I talked to my mom about it and she's totally supportive, because she knows that I'm happier than I've ever been and Wes is absolutely the best man for me. She's totally impressed with him in every way and wants us to share our life together. It's scary, I think she may like him more than she likes me!
So, how much of an influence should ones parentals have on major life choices? Guess this is one for Dr. Phil.
1 comment:
Wow! That's all I am gonna say about that! I totally feel the stress and I am not even in the loop. You should have took some black and white photos of you moving your stuff in to his house and mailed it to them anonymously. lol Do you feel like your living a double standard? Because if it was your family eyeing you, you would have told them to fuck off. lol
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