I am mine.

I wish people would let me make my own decisions. I want to live my own life. I've felt so suffocated recently because every time I state a wish to do something that would actually make me happy, I'm shot down and told to do something that will make my family happy instead, namely my Dad. I'm not decided on what I want to do as a career, but whenever I mention something I'd quite like to do, something I'm passionate about, it's not good enough. It doesn't pay enough, apparently. Better to be rich and miserable. Whenever he phones and asks me whether I'm going out tonight, I say no. I don't like clubs. I don't like the music they play, or the idiots that tend to frequent them. I'll only be unhappy if I go to them, and why be unhappy?  He won't accept that though, and tells me I need to go out more, in a disappointed tone I might add. Why should I? My life is my own to lead.

It's not like I'm not seeing people; I went shopping with a friend yesterday, and tomorrow I'm watching movies with another. I just don't want to go out and thrash around to some crappy Rihanna remix which was shit enough in it's original form. And even if I didn't hang out with others, again, why should I if I don't wish to? Introversion is not a disease, it's a biologically predisposed factor in a person's personality. I'd prefer to go to somewhere chilled out like Soul Cafe, and listen to great music all night long. That's another reason I wish it was still the Sixties or Seventies - my paternal Grandparents have great tales of being young then and seeing Cream, The Animals and countless other incredible bands on nights out. They were mods who used to party with Ossie Clark and Pattie Boyd (yes, I've seen photos). My step-grandmother has memories of going out to discos and having a blast, much to her father's irritation. I'd love to go out during that era. That is the music that can get me dancing, the music that thrills me and electrifies me. I'd much rather go out dancing like they did in the 1960s. This whole video is worth a watch, but the part I'm referencing begins at roughly 7:35 minutes in. Imagine shopping in a groovy boutique then going straight through to dance?

Mind you, my post isn't about dancing, or the 1960s. It's about the lack of freedom everyone seems to be willing to allow me. At the end of the day, how much I choose to give up control of my own life is up to me. It is true that while they try to enforce themselves and their preferred life paths upon me, they cannot occupy my mind and make me do what they want, so I cannot blame them entirely. But I wouldn't mind them backing off a little and giving me room to breathe.