I knew telling my Dad I was moving out -regardless of the fact that I was in my late twenties at the time- was perhaps the most difficult thing I would ever have to do.
So I did it via a text message.
Chicken abi? Yes, I know!
Before you crucify me, let me give you a background. My Dad is the strictest person I know. I lived in fear of him, every decision I ever made growing up was made in fear of his reactions. He was a disciplinarian. God help you if he fids you talking to a boy on the street, you will hear it. He had standards and expected same from all his Children. He expected us to have the best results from school and I was never the least in class but I wasn’t always far from it.
The cane was always waiting for me.
Yes, the fear of Baba was the beginning of wisdom.. at the time. Confronting him about my decision to move out was a nightmare. I told my siblings and everyone thought I was mad. My sister was sure pops would disown me. She also talked about Culture and tradition. A young unmarried woman moving out and staying by herself was not customary, it was a taboo. Many people actually had a lot to say. People had their opinions about the issue. I had mine too.
When asked why I was moving out, my response was/is that I wanted to be accountable to myself, to live life outside the decisions and fear of my Dad. I needed to take on the world and make my own mistakes, wanted freedom, I wanted to meet “Me”, needed to know myself before attaching myself to someone else. Craved my own space,I was too comfortable in my parents house, in the protection they constantly offered…I wanted to know what I wanted in life … I wanted a lot and I knew I had to get out to get it.
After a lot of consideration, I did what I knew how to do best. I wrote to my Dad and I poured out my heart. The text message ended with this sentence, “I know you don’t always approve many of my decisions, but you have raised us well and I hope you trust me enough to make this one”. I clicked “send” and then went to my office toilet to pray and ask myself what I had just done. An hour later, pops replied and said he’s wishing me the very best and God bless me.
Ahhhh! Issalie! It definitely cannot be this simple.
He was watching T.V in the living room when I got home, I was in deep shit.
“Eku ile Sir”, I said
“Kaabo o”, he said with a smile.
Okay, so far so good. I went to my room, expecting him to call me and start the scolding.
Summoning courage, I met him, apologized for telling him I was moving out through a text, explained why I couldn’t face him. And he gave me his blessings.
Looking back, I’m glad I made that decision, I think I’m better for it today. For many people, it’s not just about moving out, it’s about knowing what you want and actually doing it. I’ve learnt responsibility, discipline, independence, self motivation, learnt to be happy with myself, I’ve met God, I’ve learnt personal finance and budgeting, after all the bills won’t pay itself. Plus I have the best housemates! We call our place “Wakanda” Haha!
Best part is, my Dad and I are now buddies.
If you haven’t moved out, tell us why and if you have, kindly share your experience.
Written by Titilola for Diaryofanaijagirl.ng