Our Children
I know I am not the only single middle-aged woman with children whom I worry about.
My second child, female, told me she was meeting a man, with whom she had only communicated with online, in person for coffee this evening.
When it came time for her to meet him, she called to say he was actually picking her up from her apartment. Instantly my protective instincts kicked in and I over-reacted. I lost my temper and asked her if she'd lost her fucking mind giving a total stranger access to where she lived.
She hung up on me.
I tried calling her back. No answer. It went to voicemail. I leave a message asking her if her need to be a grown-up is so strong that she is willing to risk her life for it? (she's 22)
I know, I know, she is an adult, but there are grown women my age, who have nothing to prove who are more careful than that.
I text, I email, I leave messages.
Finally, she emails me back that he was meeting her near the leasing office and doesn't know where her apartment is. Small consolation to me since she's getting into his car where she is totally vulnerable and riding away with him. She reminds me she is not twelve. I should have retorted that most twelve year olds know not to get into a car with a stranger.
My family and friends remind me she is an adult and we can only protect them so much. What I cannot get past is how blatantly dangerous this thing she has done is. Am I the only one who sees that? I think not. I think my family and friends are merely trying to keep me from letting my imagination run away with me.
I don't care how old our children get, whether they are half way around the world, as my first child is, or right in the next town. We worry, or at least I do. Almost to the point of obsession. My children would take the word almost out of that last sentence.
Tonight I will not be able to rest until I know she is in her apartment, alone, safe, and with the door locked.
It is already after 1 a.m.
My second child, female, told me she was meeting a man, with whom she had only communicated with online, in person for coffee this evening.
When it came time for her to meet him, she called to say he was actually picking her up from her apartment. Instantly my protective instincts kicked in and I over-reacted. I lost my temper and asked her if she'd lost her fucking mind giving a total stranger access to where she lived.
She hung up on me.
I tried calling her back. No answer. It went to voicemail. I leave a message asking her if her need to be a grown-up is so strong that she is willing to risk her life for it? (she's 22)
I know, I know, she is an adult, but there are grown women my age, who have nothing to prove who are more careful than that.
I text, I email, I leave messages.
Finally, she emails me back that he was meeting her near the leasing office and doesn't know where her apartment is. Small consolation to me since she's getting into his car where she is totally vulnerable and riding away with him. She reminds me she is not twelve. I should have retorted that most twelve year olds know not to get into a car with a stranger.
My family and friends remind me she is an adult and we can only protect them so much. What I cannot get past is how blatantly dangerous this thing she has done is. Am I the only one who sees that? I think not. I think my family and friends are merely trying to keep me from letting my imagination run away with me.
I don't care how old our children get, whether they are half way around the world, as my first child is, or right in the next town. We worry, or at least I do. Almost to the point of obsession. My children would take the word almost out of that last sentence.
Tonight I will not be able to rest until I know she is in her apartment, alone, safe, and with the door locked.
It is already after 1 a.m.
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