I'm going home for a week soon. As much as I love my family, this is a stressful thing for me. For as long as I could remember I have had distinct roles to play with each of my family members. I am, by turns,
the pillar of strength,
the fixer of problems,
the hearer of words,
the thinker of clever thoughts,
the dispenser of wisdom,
the mete-er (work with me here!) of discipline,
the teller of jokes,
the applauder of accomplishments.
Sometimes it is too much. Especially when deep down inside I still feel like I'm 14. What the hell do I know about any of these things? Of course, no one truly has these expectations of me. No one but me.