The path that I'm walking
I must go alone
I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown
Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they?
And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay



May 10, 2003

Dear Mom,

This is seriously the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Even if I am being a complete coward to do it like this, through the mail, and not in person.

Before I say anything else, I want to state, clearly, truly, that I do love you, Mom. And I don't doubt, in your own way, that you love me too. But I've been thinking a whole lot this semester about things, and I've come to a decision. It was real hard to make, and it's going to seem real unfair because I've been saying otherwise all year, but…

I'm not coming home to Santa Barbara after graduation.

You know I told you I had that music theory and composition class this semester? With Dr. Ellis. I love it. It's really opened my mind to a lot of things, not that I have any musical talent of my own. Anyway. A couple weeks ago, we got to 20th century popular music. And Dr. Ellis devoted a whole week to the guy he says is the greatest musical genius since Mozart, and totally the greatest musical genius of the modern age: Brian Wilson. You know, that guy from the Beach Boys?

You remember how I used to listen to them all the time when I was a kid? When we lived much closer to the beach, and Danny and I would go surfing every free moment we had? I don't know if you ever knew how much I loved that. When I was out on the water, just me, I swear that was the only time in my life I felt free. And in control of things. If it makes any sense to feel both free and in control at the same time.

And then Danny graduated and went off to college, and you made me stop. You said it wasn't safe to go without him, that people would bother me, or that I'd get hurt. (Never mind that I knew everybody down there, and had been doing it since I was five without breaking any limbs.) You said the swimsuits and wetsuits were too suggestive. (Never mind that I was ten years old.) You said it was time to stop being a silly kid, and grow up, and stop wasting all my time playing. (Again? Ten years old.)

I never understood how it was that Danny got to be his own person, while you were so strict with me. Maybe it was just that thing with Irish Catholic families, where the boys get to run wild but the girls have to be locked away so they aren't defiled. Maybe it was that I was so much younger than he was. Maybe it was that after you lost Daddy, and then you sort of lost Danny to school, you got scared and didn't want to lose me too.

Maybe I've been wrong about how much you know about me. Maybe you've seen things. Maybe you wanted to protect me… or yourself.

Whatever the reason, while I'm sure you had the best intentions in your heart… I lost, too. I hadn't really ever thought about how much until I started listening to that music again, and it took me right back to that place where I was free and in control.

…And right back to the place that followed, where I was never either of those things again. Not even here at school, these last four years, not with you making me call you every single night, and making me come home for anything longer than just the standard weekend, and making me account for all my time and money.

I'm not going back to Santa Barbara, Mom. I'm not going back "home". I need to find my own home, and have my own life.

I haven't figured out where I'm going to end up yet. Maybe San Francisco. Maybe Portland. Someplace much less sunny and bright than Santa Barbara, that's for sure. If you… know, then you know why. But that's only part of the reason. The other part is that it's time I started living my own life.

I don't have some big illusion about how my life's going to turn out. I don't have some fairy tale in my head about how running off to a new city is somehow going to magically make things better, or make me a better person. I think I've figured out by now that I'm not ever really going to live a normal life.

But I'd at least like to live that abnormal life on my own terms.

I know it might seem kind of like this is some real impulsive, rash decision. Like I went just as crazy as Brian Wilson all of a sudden, when I put his music on, and now I'm running off to go rejoin all the surfers down at the beach. It's not like that, Mom. I've actually been thinking about this for a long time, I just couldn't figure out what to do. Or how to tell you.

Brian Wilson just helped clarify it all for me, by reminding me of what I used to have. What I used to feel. Who I used to be.

Besides, after all this time, and after all that denying who I was, for you… I don't think I could surf anymore if my life depended on it. I've become too afraid.

I think that sums up what's happened to my life, Mom. I'm sure, so sure, deep in my heart, that you love me and you meant well… but I've become so afraid to even live my life.

By the time you get this, I'll be gone. My last exam is tomorrow, and I'm already packed up and ready to leave. I know I don't have to worry about you, because Danny's going to take real good care of you like he always does. Next time he comes by, tell him I love him, too.

Maybe, once I get settled in someplace, and get my life figured out and sorted out, I'll write and let you know. So you can see it was the right decision, and so I can show you how well I'm doing. Till then, I want you to know you don't have to worry about me, and that I love you, so much.

I think all those Beach Boys records might still be in the garage, if you're interested.

Love,
Rachel



Rachel Conway
Heroes (OC)
Word count: 1,081