I remember being a little girl and feeling like I was just…just going to DIE over this or that issue and being told by my mom that “…It’ll be aight.”
Or, “You’ll live.”
I’ll live?! I’d think to myself. That’s your response to my earth-shattering, life-quaking event? I’ll live?!
Funny thing about time, or just a wee bit of age is…it was aight. And I did live.
And now when I’m talking to my friends about the things that seem to be earth shattering to them, I find more and more that the three most appropriate words I can think of in response to their crises are, “It’ll be aight.”
I have morphed into my mother (but that’s the subject of another post).
When my mom used to tell me that “it’ll be aight,” I used to feel so misunderstood. I always felt like that was such a surface response to my problems that ran so deep and that being given such a cursory response to my world-shifting problem was proof that I was alone in this world (Yes, I was a dramatic kid).
…but it do be aight.
I say this now to my good friends, and it’s not that I don’t care. I do. It just truly seems, to me, to be the best thing to say.
I was the type of kid and teenager (and OK possibly young adult) who thought every problem was the end of the world. My standard declaration was “OMG I’M GONNA DIE!!!!” There were many a day I couldn’t get out of bed or leave my room for things I either can’t remember now or am juuuuuuust barely mature enough to go ahead and admit maybe were not so earth-shattering in hindsight.
That’s just how I rolled.
So I have, like, not died a lot by now. And in fact, quite conversely, things…have…pretty much always…been aight.
Egg on my face.
I think we’ve all seen that little Internet blurb that goes something like “5..I love you mom. 15…I HATE you mom. 25…Mom, you were right (etcetera, etcetera) .”
I guess I’m approaching the “Mom, you were right,” stage in my life because a lot of the things I was told when I was a kid are starting to resonate with me in a whole new way.
I guess this is what being just a teensie bit more mature feels like.
….now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my current boy-related end of the world crisis. Just kidding, I’m not worried about no boy. After all, it’ll be aight.