In the blink of an eye, it's time to leave home again. My mother saw me off outside the high-speed rail station. I took a few steps and turned back, waving and saying goodbye with a loud voice. Tears welled up in my eyes before going through the security check.
Perhaps many people have complex emotions about home. A few years ago, I actually wanted to escape from all of this. I wanted to escape from the opposition, belittlement, sarcasm, comparison, doubt, and control from my family. So at that time, I urgently wanted to be economically independent and independent in personality. I wanted to make my own choices and walk the path I wanted, rather than what my relatives expected. I still remember 2020 very clearly. When I had just graduated, I had many arguments with my family about career choices and other issues. I even shouted and vowed that I would never go home again. Later, I didn't go home for two years, using the excuse of the pandemic and other reasons.
In the blink of an eye, I have been working for three years. I made great efforts to explain the rationality of my choices to my mother, and her attitude gradually changed from doubt and denial to understanding and encouragement.
Now that I am back home, I find that the things I once fought against so hard may have softened. Although I used to be very willful and arrogant, my mother had absolute authority to make judgments and control back then. But now, I can feel my mother's caution in many details of our interactions.
While helping my mother set up her new phone step by step, I saw her clumsily and timidly operating it like a student. It reminded me of scenes from middle school when she patiently taught me how to solve math problems and accompanied me in writing diaries during elementary school. She used to be capable of anything. My mother is so intelligent, practical, and clever. Unfortunately, she encountered the end of iron rice bowl in the late 20th century and was later trapped in trivial matters at home. It is truly heartbreaking to see her sacrifices. It is difficult to reconcile.
In middle school, I didn't understand her strict criticism of my academic performance. After graduating from university, I still didn't understand her enthusiasm for me to take the civil service exam. Now I think it was probably because she didn't want me to repeat her mistakes. She wanted to do everything in her power to help me avoid the pitfalls she had experienced, even though she often expressed it in inappropriate ways and caused harm to both of us. For many years, I thought my mother's love for me was conditional. I thought she only liked me because I ranked in the top ten in my grade and went to a prestigious university. But in fact, her desire for me to succeed was just her way of loving me.
I am becoming stronger day by day, while my mother is slowly aging. I find it difficult to accept this fact. Deep down, I still want to be a protected child and I am not ready to fully embrace adulthood. I haven't prepared myself to take on more responsibilities.
Although I have been proclaiming to prove myself and resist, my tone is so confident and certain, but in reality, I am very fragile. I am not as strong and determined as I appear to my mother. I have many confusions and despair that I don't know how to express. For years, I have only shared good news and kept my worries to myself. I dare not tell my family about my fears because I am afraid they will worry about me, criticize me, or even discourage me from pursuing my dreams. I understand that they may not have the capacity to help me, so I prefer to shoulder everything on my own and downplay the difficulties along the way. Perhaps this is my competitiveness, or perhaps it is to make my family believe in me, believe in my abilities, believe in my choices, and believe that I am no longer an innocent and naive child. I want them to believe that I am strong enough to protect them with my own hands and strive for the life I desire.
These days, I have received many inquiries from relatives about my future plans: "Why don't you take the civil service exam?", "Why don't you talk about having a boyfriend?", "A girl over 25 is considered a leftover woman", "Don't be too picky", "Are you still going to stay in Beijing?"... Although I am annoyed by these boundary-less behaviors and do not agree with some of the value judgments, I have also questioned myself many times whether I should return to Shaanxi and be with my parents. As a product of a specific era, the child of the third-line construction factory, I do not have a hometown that welcomes me back for employment. Since I have to leave home, leave my hometown, and face everything alone, does it really matter if I stay closer or go farther away? I don't really know.
Whether leaving or staying, it is not easy. Perhaps as I grow older and step out of the utopia, I have gained a better understanding of the difficulties of life. I no longer have the same aloofness as a few years ago, nor the courage of a newborn calf unafraid of tigers. Instead, I have many concerns. After experiencing anxiety time and time again, I realized that many problems may be unsolvable at the moment. So, I will continue on my journey with these questions, live each day well, learn skills, read and write, work hard to earn money, provide myself and my family with a sense of security, care for them, buy things they need but hesitate to buy, and do my best to improve their happiness in life.
If I continue to become stronger, perhaps I will find solutions to the various problems that currently trouble me in the future.
The people and things I care about are what I cannot let go of. They are also what prevent me from giving up on myself.
After being protected for so many years, it is time for me to grow up quickly and protect the people I want to protect.