by Jessica Mann.

“Ok. I’ll be there,” I typed.

I end my text conversation and begin to munch on my cool ranch Doritos. Stumbling into the room Addi, my scavenging niece, spots my chips.

“Chip, chip,” she whined.

I give in. One chip wouldn’t hurt, all the while, ignoring what was really going on. I told Ashley I’d be at Hurricane at 7 p.m, but I still lacked permission. It was suffocating me.

Glancing across the table, I look at my mom. Normally she’d be the one to ask and she’d always say,

“Go make sure it’s alright with your father,”

But roles have changed. So I quickly dart my eyes towards my sister. I’d have to ask her. But my mom was sitting in the room, how awkward would that be?

“I’m going to run outside real quick. I’ll be back,” my mother said.

Perfect. It would be my only chance. I hesitantly asked for permission from my sister. She interrogated me about where I was going, who would be there and what time I’d be back. No big deal. I hear the door begin to open.

My mom strolls back into the dining room. We make awkward eye contact. There’s elephant in the room and my sister and me don’t have the power in us to confront it.

I nonchalantly get up and make myself look busy. Head down, I saunter into my room to look for a change of clothes. My thoughts begin to race.

“I never thought things would be so awkward between me and my mom. I feel like I’m hiding stuff from her. I don’t live in her house anymore though, so I don’t have to ask her permission, right?” I argue in my head.

I walk into the living room where my sister and mom messed with the computer.

“Hey, I’m leaving. I should be home in about an hour,” I say to my sister.

“Ok, be careful,” she replies.

And I leave the house without permission from my mother, every kids dream. Being able to leave the house without permission from their parent, but for me it’s the harsh reality of my childhood role model losing their authority.