by Georgina Gamble ’29 on September 17, 2026
Opinion
I don’t like my parents.
When my parents dropped me off for my freshman year of college, I was completely ecstatic. I was finally an “adult” in my head (although I was still 17). I thought this was finally the time when you are officially on your own, just like how it is in all the coming-of-age movies. I am a very independent person—an only child—and can find comfort in any situation others would consider lonely. At the same time, my social life is way better without parental supervision. I don’t need to ask for the car to go visit a friend, there are no interrogations awaiting me as I’m about to walk out the door, and I can pretty much do whatever I want with my day without narrating it aloud.
I fear that my expectations of adult life in college were quickly squashed with the simple booking of my first Amtrak ticket home. Practically as soon as the train crossed into New York State, I realized just how good I had it up in Rhode Island.
Obviously, I don’t actually hate my parents, they are amazing people who raised me well! What I dislike, however, is the odd limbo that being in college throws a person into. For the next three or so years, I will continuously be hovering in between childhood and adulthood. This means that no matter how hard my heart and brain work in tandem to mature, my body will always end up back at home, in a house where the rules aren’t mine. At Providence, I am in the process of signing the lease to rent what is basically my first house. At home, I will get lectured if I even consider using the stove after my mom mopped the floors. What are these unpredictable, unspoken laws that the universe puts into place when you move away to school? And when they are so unpredictable, why do I keep getting yelled at when I break them?
I don’t like this phase of life where everything is so heavily implied. I think I am fully capable of living on my own without any guidelines apart from my own moral compass. At the same time, I can see why this segment can serve as a kind of buffer. I have a lot of leverage, but not the whole of adulthood. Being prevented from my full potential is probably for the best right now, so I avoid getting too ahead of myself. At the same time, this resistance is giving me rope burn. I can’t seem to find the equilibrium between respecting my parents’ apprehensions while they acknowledge my need to spread my wings all the way. Until I cross over into the next segment of my life, I will try my best to navigate these conflicting and incredibly weird disputes. I think it will take both myself and my parents’ perseverance to balance the scale in a way that leaves them relaxed, and at the same time leaves me at ease with even the slightest issues that unmask my so-called “liberty” from chores and curfews. To be honest, all I really care about is finally being trusted in my own kitchen (I promise I will clean the stovetop without retaliation).