Ever since I was a child, I haven’t quite identified with my parents’ worldview. This became very apparent when I had an intense discussion about treatment for an eating disorder (which I fortunately recovered from) when I was 14. Because of that, I’ve kept my relationship with them to a working minimum, sticking to what was necessary, given that we lived under the same roof. That’s been a bumpy ride.
Now I’m 20 and have just moved out, but I’m still close enough to my parents that they want me to go back home once a month. They always expect me to be chatty and warm with them, not realising I haven’t wished that to be the case for a long time.
