SO, THIS IS WHAT THE PILGRIMS FELT LIKE.

Have you ever had one of those days where the word "hell" simply does not promote adequate negative sentiment?
Really?! Me too.
I'm starting to see the signs of my mother's resentment at my leaving for college next year. She doesn't want too see me go, and I can understand that.
It's me. Come on. Who would want to see me go?
Shut up.
Scenario: I'm trying to go to Peter & Paul's tonight for a "mass other than that which I have been resigned to for the past seven years." Which seemed, to me, a logical request. Religious freedom, right?
I'm tired of going to mass with my parents. I lack any emotional input when it comes to sharing something so personal with them: it's not a situation I want to be in any longer than absolutely necessary. There's nothing wrong with them (Ha!), but I get much more out of my religion when they're not around.
What Actually Happened: I end up at Margaret Mary with the family, angsty and tired over not being able to relax in a setting without them. I was mean, audacious, and generally teen-aged in demeanor. It was not the situation I wanted to be in. At all.
They need to realize that as sad as it may be that this is my last year under their roof, it is MY last year to experience the things at home that I truly want to experience. That entails moving apart from them in some situations and finding my own footing. If I stay heavily under their statute, I will have far less preparation than I need for the coming years, and essentially, my life away from home.
They need to let go. Or at least loosen up.