My mom always had a love-hate relationship with having children. She was afraid she would be as bad at parenting as her mom, but actually loved us deeply, so she just tried to control every possible aspect of our lives and make life perfect as a coping mechanism. This came to a head as we became adults, where she wanted us out of the house but still tried to micromanage our jobs, our living situations, and our relationships. My dad wasn't much better as he always judges anything and everybody by his lived experience of never being good enough for his dad.

Take all of this for what you will. It was far from the most dysfunctional environment to grow up with, but I'm sure you can imagine the constant push-pull that ensued, and the pervasive feelings of inadequacy that inform my reactions to life situations to this day despite a fair bit of therapy.

Work is the majority of every day again and my time is not subject to their control in the same way it was, so I see another control cycle setting itself up. Even though I told them when I was interviewing that as much as possible I don't want them listening in, nor do I want a constant barrage of critiques when I get off the call, of course it happened. I kept insisting and finally the comments were about half of what they originally were, which I call a victory. Now every single day I'm on about 2-3 calls with colleagues, vendors, HR, IT, and the other people necessary to properly onboard and learn the systems so I can be an effective employee. My parents want to control and comment on what I say even though they have never worked for something larger than a school system and would be woefully out of their depth if they had to handle half of what I do. I've mostly held my tongue except to reiterate: I am working. I have calls at X and Y times so I need relative quiet. Thank you, but I can handle this without your input.

I've kept my temper so far, even when my dad wanders into the dining room (now my office) like a lost puppy because he's used to chatting with me on and off in the TV room while I'm sewing (my unemployed pandemic lifeline) and now he's bored and lonely. I say hi, sorry, I'm working, do you need anything right now? No, ok, and turn back to my screen. My mom and I went to yoga, our normal Tuesday morning activity, and when I got out of the shower she proudly presented me with a sandwich on the bread she wants me to eat (instead of the white bread that's mine), cut into quarters. I thanked her for it, silently thanked my lucky stars she didn't cut the crusts off too, and ate it before logging on for the day.

This has suddenly become real to them. Even though they harassed me to find a job, any job, they are realizing that instead of having me available to grocery shop, help with cooking, help with cleaning, or filling the car with gas I am committed elsewhere and the responsibility falls back on them. I'll help off-hours but otherwise no. And they are realizing that as much as they put up with my sister and I here during the pandemic, I have a very clear intention and ability to move out within the next 6 months which leaves them with two problems.

1) I will be on my own and they can't micromanage me to the degree they're used to any more.

2) My sister will still be here with no plans (that we know of) to work again or to help around the house. She hasn't lifted a finger in two years except on her "creative endeavors", so I'm not holding my breath for her to suddenly realize she should put in minimal effort and money to live here. And that's between her and my parents to resolve.

On some level I am annoyed that they are treating me like a child who just landed their first job. I have 18 years experience in the industry and I don't need to be monitored or fed, but I breathe through the feeling and remind myself to thank them. It's too late for them to change their patterns, so I need to be the one to create new boundaries and not fall prey to the same dynamics I grew up with. I can be the bigger person here, and we will all adjust.