“Who are you to criticize my life and what I’ve done? You don’t even know the real me,” I sob.
“I’m your mother, of course I know who you are! I just want what’s best for you.”
“No, you want me to ‘get a job’ and ‘save my money’. You don’t understand the need or the passion that consumes me. I don’t want a normal job, and a normal life. I want to be able to look back and remember that I did something extraordinary.
I want to be able to tell my stories and relive the moments that define me and everyone I came in contact with. I want to be able to say I witnessed a miracle and lived my life to the absolute fullest.”
“You can’t do all that without making yourself financially stable. Think about that!”
“What’s the point in making money if you’re not able to spend it? To enjoy it? I’d rather rent a tiny apartment the rest of my life than to be stuck paying for something and not being able to do anything but pay for it.”
“WHY NOT? Why not put the money towards the memories and experiences that will live on after I’m gone? Why not focus on learning new things and experiencing new cultures?”
“What’s the point, if you’re going to put yourself in debt?”
“What’s the point in being alive, if you’re not living?”