Yesterday was surreal, but the upshot is: Sophie isn’t moving out any time soon. It turns out, since this was her and her best friend’s first time looking for apartments, and since neither of them would listen to anything any of the parents have to say nor take any advice (solicited or not) about what it takes to afford and secure an apartment, they could not complete the transaction.
Sophia, her friend, her friend’s parents and me all sat at a tiny table in the management company office. The woman very patiently explained to the girls – in front of all three parents – that they don’t qualify for the rent because, as it turns out, Sophie’s friend actually hasn’t begun her job yet – even though she was allegedly hired months ago – and Sophie’s erratic 12-18 hours a week at minimum wage isn’t going to cut it. Neither I nor the other parents are willing to co-sign, because we are not certain either girl will meet her responsibilities consistently; we don’t want to be left holding the bill if the other girl leaves the apartment; and we are concerned they might drop out of college to work more to pay the rent – which is not in alignment with our goals for them at this stage. But Sophie had assured everyone that the landlady had approved them already, just based on her initial conversations. So all the parents had decided a month-to-month arrangement, each girl heavily subsidized by her parents, would be a safe way to test their commitment.
When it didn’t work out, Sophie was shocked. I’ve never seen such an expression on her face. I knew she’d soon fall into sadness, and then emerge from that with a redoubled commitment to finding a way to move out and be independent. Sure enough, by night she’d moved through the stages and was already looking at other apartments online.
I took the dog for a long walk and considered what this meant for me – that she would be staying with me until some future unknown date. I felt relief, sadness, anger and guilt. Mostly guilt, because I won’t just underwrite her whole adventure. I want to do this differently than my parents did. I want to support her decision to go to college financially and emotionally and in every other way. But watching this early exercise in independence, I realize how far she is from understanding the first thing about how the business world works, and how resistant she is to my advice.
Discounting one’s parents wisdom is a normal behavior for an 18 year old, but I started reflecting on how many adults I know who repeat the same equally naive behaviors over and over and over. I’m sure I do this, too. Sophia got a dose of humility yesterday in front of everyone. As adults, it’s easier to cover up our mistakes most of the time. Because it isn’t public, we can stay blind to our weaknesses, faults and ineffective ways of being in the world. I woke up this morning searching out the places in my life where I am so damn sure I know what’s going on and that my way is the only right way. I’m forced to consider that perhaps, maybe, in some small way, some of the time, occasionally I might be wrong. Gulp! Could it be true? Where are these blind spots I don’t really want to see? They’re in the areas where my life isn’t working the way I want it to and still I keep trying all the wrong things without success. Solution: solicit and apply advice from someone who has successfully accomplished what I’d like to achieve.