The “in between” generation…
The “in between” generation…
This is something I’ve thought about for some time. I haven’t just invented a new generation…and I’m not referring to then next generation. My friends and I would be “Generation X” and maybe picking up a little of the “Generation Y” depending how selfish we are 
“Generation In Between” is more people like me; children of immigrants that are 1st generation in Canada. We seem to be right in between the home country and the country we all call home.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot as someone who’s in her 30s, single and trying to figure it all out. I think my parents seemed to have this dating/finding someone/having children thing figured out better than I do. Seems to be a lot more complicated that I’ve been told.
Let me explain…
I’m born and raised in Canada but raised to be more Greek than Canadian; or at least to have a healthy dose of Greek temperament in me. I’m independent, strong and think I know what I want and understand how gender roles have changed. I would like to find a man who is strong and independent and can be a partner for me. The only problem is I’d like him to be something that doesn’t seem to exist anymore. A gentleman…someone who take initiative…someone who pays for dinner (hah). I’m kind of stuck.
I have what my parents told me to expect and want from a partner and what maybe isn’t out there so much anymore. I also have a respect for the fact that men have had to deal with women who are demeaning and have lost their way a bit.
So I’m “In between”. Maybe I don’t know what I want…maybe there’s no way to figure it out until it happens…
I was telling a friend of mind a while back…I don’t know who this mystery man may be…but he better be f-ing worth it! xoxoxo
Out with the old…
In with the new?
Maybe.
First off Happy New Year!!!!
I can honestly say I’ve started off the new year just like I wanted to…calmly and happily with the parents and sister. I’m hoping all my friends and family around the world did the same 
What does this have to do with the whole theme of growing up, moving forward and being a more complete person?
Well, in my last post I was wondering how my parents seem to do and know everything. They cook everything well, they know how to fix the boo boos and make it all okay. So, it turns out they’re excellent judges of character as well.
Yes…I know…most parents are. They know that that person you’re hanging out with is hiding something, or going through something, or wonderful…or…or…
On New Year’s day I had a falling out with a friend. Ok, so that’s not exactly true. I was completely betrayed and disgusted and ended a friendship. 
I was so upset I told my other friends, who were comforting and made me feel better. I also was upset enough that I couldn’t really keep it from my parents either.
So I poured my heart out to my parents about what had happened and how I felt about it…and my parents were comforting and helped me feel better. Then I was reminded that they had never really understood my friendship with this person…and then it hit me.
They knew!!!! Like everything else, even though they had only seen this friend on a few occasions they already knew I would be hurt but as I’m in my 30s I guess they thought I should make my own decisions about my friends…but of course they knew.
Which brings me to my first of many questions…
When exactly did they start knowing absolutely everything?
So here’s the confusion…
So here’s the confusion…who are we?
Well I think we know who we are…the problem is I’m not sure we know what we’re doing…
At our age (32 going on 33) our parents seemed to already have it all together. I know that my mom was already “MOM” the one that had answers and had it figured out…and “DAD” was already the one who was the big protector…they were both fearless…I’m not fearless…I’m afraid of everything! Which I suppose is issue number 1.
Right now there are more questions than answers…
We’ll leave the family part aside for the moment…as I can’t seem to sort out the man situation either…and start with the basics…
Cooking…I can’t…well I mean I can but the parent’s tastes better…and all those recipies…without measuring…anything written down…
First aid…what do you put on what? when is it really an emergency?
Why can’t I manage to put myself together before going to work when my mom looked fantastic while having 2 kids, and working on her feet all day…
What am I missing?
okandthenwhat
