Sometimes I feel like I have to prove that I’m an adventurous person. Actually, I probably just need to remind myself that I am, in fact, a cool and adventurous person because for the past week I’ve done nothing but watch Netflix and cuddle with my mom’s puppy. But hey, this is my last week of being spoiled before I go back to school, so I’m milking it.
Anyway, somewhere in the middle of my “Parks and Rec” marathon, I thought back to my favorite adventure of all time (all time being my life). When I was 14 I went to Australia for 3 and a half weeks by myself, and it was the best trip EVER. I stayed with trusted family friends of ours who had recently moved back to Australia. The family has a daughter around my age that I grew up with, so there was always an open invitation for me to come stay with them. I asked my parents if I could go, and by some stroke of luck that I still can’t explain to this day, they said yes!
My parents, by the way, homeschooled me. I know, I know. You’re all wondering how I came to be such a well-rounded person. Being homeschooled meant I was protected from the evils of the world like Halloween, Harry Potter, Britney Spears, and, worst of all…. Myspace.
According to every Christian home school parent ever in those days, putting your name on the Internet was the most dangerous thing in the world, so Myspace was off limits. But … I had one anyway. Rules smules. I snuck onto my Myspace at any chance I could to share pictures, talk to friends, and … well I can’t actually remember what else, but it made my feel really cool.
Anyway, in the summer of 2007, my secret Myspace and I went to Australia, and it was amazing. I climbed the Brisbane Bridge, pet kangaroos, held a koala, tried vegemite and spent a week in Sydney at a Hillsong conference. However, there was one little detail of the trip that wasn’t so perfect. A detail that kept me up at night, haunted my thoughts, and made me feel evil for having such a great time. My secret. My parents sent me to the other side of the world just for the sake of experience, and I was lying to them? I felt awful.
My friend that I was staying with also had a Myspace, and her mom knew about it and thought it was pretty cool. This gave me hope! Maybe my parents would think it’s okay for me to have a Myspace since my friend’s parents thought it was fine. That’s how it works, right?
So one night in Australia I got up the courage to e-mail my mom about it. After filling her in on all of my adventures, sending her pictures and letting her know how much I missed everyone, I wrote my confession. I maturely told her that I already had a Myspace, was sorry for keeping it from her, and I understood if she wanted me to delete it.
The next few hours waiting for her response were horrible. It finally came, and it read something like this:
Hey Caroline! Thanks for sending the pictures – it looks like you’re having a great time! We miss you! It’s okay that you have a Myspace, and thanks for being honest with me. We saw the new Bourne movie yesterday. I think you would like it. Love you!
That was it. One sentence. I made myself crazy, and she wasn’t even mad? Didn’t she know that I was the worst daughter on the face of the planet?!
The moral of the story is that my parents are awesome, and the thought of disappointing them made me so crazy that I had to confess via e-mail, from another continent. Wimp.
But I promise you I am adventurous! All of my Myspace friends thought so, anyway.