Dear Mummy

I really would like a destination wedding. Like for real. I know you think I'm kidding half the time (and I am), but not this time. I really really really want to get married on a beach. I know its weird, and it doesn't fit in your suka wearing, plans but it's what I want. Think about it. The lucky thing is that I haven't even met him so we still have some time to iron out the kinks and what not. I promise. I was kidding when I said I wanted you to meet him, what what. I can be silly. Sorry.

Watching you laugh so hard you cried last week was the best thing ever. You don't really laugh enough. It was even better that it was at that tadpoley thing that guy did on Total Wipeout. Sorry we didn't pay attention to what you were saying after that. We're eejits. One of the things I love most about daddy is that he makes you laugh. Ok, so most of the time he's making us laugh at your expense, but its especially nice when you're laughing too. I hope my guy makes me laugh. Actually I know he will. No compromise on that.

I'm sorry I'm so lazy and I don't help out like I should. What I lack in chores I make up for in entertainment, right? And hugs! :)

Mummy, I don't like my job. I know you think its because I'm young, and overly naive and irresponsible and careless. But it's not. Atleast not entirely. I want to be doing something that I believe in. Like you are. You still talk about your job. I don't remember the last time I did that. Except to disparage what I do (or don't do) or hate on my boss and what not. I want to believe in something enough to go back to school and teach (or not) and then come home and share with my family. This job really doesn't give me that. I feel like two different people. The non-me me at work and then the me at home. Its been a year and still its a non-fit. I know winners don't quit, but I want to do just that, mummy. Just this once. Please. I'm glad you made me stick it out with that undergrad nightmare, and I'm really grateful for all those graduate school thingys you are always sending me. I really am. Even though I pretend to not pay attention and lose the links and miss deadlines (sorry). I'm glad you're always pushing me. Just not with this job please. Let me let it go.

I do believe in God. Just not in people. Not a lot anyway. I believe in love. I believe in marriage, in monogamy, in faithfulness, in honesty, in strength, in steadfastness. I believe in tolerance. I believe that consenting adults have the right to love whom they choose. Gay, straight, muslim, white...who cares? I'm ashamed when I realise how prejudiced I already am. I'm working hard to change that. And yet when that muslim boy thought I was inviting him to your house for dinner I laughed at him. It's not right that I hid him from you. I'm ashamed of me for that. I find it hard to believe in a Christian love that is so constrictive, so exclusive, so disapproving. I'd rather just be human.

I'm sorry about your mum. She and I don't have a relationship so the only pain I feel is for you. It's been such a huge strain on you and I'm dealing with my anger toward her because of that but at the same time I know that if it were you lying on that bed, I'd do it all too.

Thank you for loving me and worrying about me. I'm sorry for not eating supper enough and spending so much time away from home and for not understanding your taste in shoes. You're a great mummy. I hope I'm not doing too badly as a daughter.

bzus,

Els