When I wrote about How to Tell Your Catholic Parents you’re Moving in with your Boyfriend last week, a commenter who disagreed with my decision suggested every relationship, no matter how unique, must go through “standard procedures.” He was respectful in his disagreement and this post is in no way intended to bash or disrespect him. It’s just that his words made me think. Are there indeed standard procedures that every relationship must have and, if so, what are they?
Oh the joys of having well-meaning Catholic parents. I don’t have a problem with religion or parents trying to do what’s best for their child. Yet, every child reaches an age where they start to make their own decisions. Once you become a legal adult, move out of your parents house and experience the world, you may find yourself with opinions different from your parents. Cohabitation is strongly frowned upon in the Catholic church and for some reason the church likes to complain about that more than the number of homeless, sick and suffering. I’m not hear to judge though, I’m here to tell you what happened when I told my parents I was moving in with my boyfriend. Believe me, I Googled for advice when I first made this decision and I would like to add my two cents. Maybe my experience can give you some good ideas on how to tell your Catholic parents you want to move in with your boyfriend.
We all know cohabitation destroys families, right? Clearing a person needs a shiny carbon rock and a scripted set of specific vows to create value and shelter life. All these heathens living without such things can possible be as strong as a Christian, heterosexual family?
Time for something different! One of the reasons I was afraid to publish my old poems regularly is because I knew many would be dark. Well, on February 25th, 2005 I broke that trend, writing not on depression, but on love. Of course, at 14-years-old, there was no way I was anywhere near finding love, but I had many friends who thought they had. Many of my friends had grand dreams of lavish weddings, white picket fences and 2.5 kids. Where did I fit in all that? Continue reading What is Love to a Teenager?
I have no idea where this romantic mumbo-jumbo came from. Written in January of 2005, this poem is all kinds of mushy. At 14-years-old, I’d never kissed a man, let along dated one. Still, this came out of me. Continue reading Fragility of Happiness Attained