I talk to my parents every day but that doesn’t mean I’m not independent

I was in downtown Larchmont last Friday and I saw Jordan Bridges (an actor) standing outside of a café. I was walking to Larchmont Bungalow for lunch, and I literally passed within two feet of him – I debated saying something to him but eventually decided I didn’t want to interrupt his Friday afternoon. For those of you who don’t know, Bridges plays Frankie Rizzoli in the TV show “Rizzoli and Isles,” which is one of my favorite shows.

Needless to say, this was extremely exciting, so I did what I tend to do in most exciting situations: I called my mom.

Though she was at work, she was equally excited by my celebrity sighting, and we had a nice conversation about how much we love his character before she had to get back to work. She texted me later that day to update me on something that happened at work, and my dad called me the next day to tell me a funny story about something one of his students said in class that week (he’s a teacher).

We then had our usual hour-long Sunday night conversation while I was procrastinating on writing a paper for my history of musical theater class. While for most college students, talking to their parents this much in the course of three days might seem odd, but for me it’s extremely normal.

Excited because I’m wearing heels so we’re actually the same height for once.

My parents are two of my best friends. I went to three different elementary schools, all in different districts (and then moved districts again for middle school) and am an only child, so my parents were the two main constants during the first 11 years of my life.

My personality is kind of a mix of both of my parents. My mom and I are both very creatively inclined:  we communicate mainly by singing lines from broadway songs at each other, are in the same acting class at home. Everyone is always shocked that we’re mother and daughter purely because of how comfortable we are with each other.  We frequently go see various community theater productions because we know members of the cast from previous shows and as a result, we also have many of the same friends.

My dad, on the other hand, shares my predilection for talking endlessly about nothing and thinking about the world in weird, abstract ways: we frequently stay up until the early hours of the morning talking about whatever comes to mind. He also loves to cook, and we spend a lot of time in the kitchen making needlessly complicated recipes (specifically of bread: we love bread). Unfortunately, I also inherited my terrible sense of direction from him: if I don’t have a GPS, I will literally get lost driving from here to Santa Monica.

As usual, my mom wanted a picture despite the fact that we all looked terrible, so we started pinching her in retribution.

Though I talk to my parents frequently, that doesn’t mean I’m not capable as an adult and can’t manage on my own. My parents and I seem to have struck a perfect balance between them being my friends versus them being my parents: they are the first people I talk to whenever anything even remotely interesting happens in my life and we’ve always treated each other as equals, but at the same time I also go to them whenever I need advice because I trust their judgment much more than I trust someone who’s my age/has my limited life experience.

They find my love life, or significant lack thereof, extremely funny.

Ruining family photos since ’96.

My parents apparently took the whole “it takes a village” thing about raising a child very seriously (I’m assuming that’s because I was an extremely difficult child), and as a result I’m also pretty close with a lot of my more extended family as well, specifically one of my mom’s sisters and her children. These relationships were something my parents especially encouraged:  they actually moved back to the Bay Area after I was born (they had been living in Chicago) purely because they wanted me to grow up knowing my family.

Two of my cousins, Connor and Sophie, are practically my brother and sister: we grew up with each other.  Sophie and I literally swapped weekends at each other’s houses until we were 12, and we only stopped because I practically moved in with them during middle school and high school. Sophie and Connor’s parents are basically my second mom and dad, and one of my grandmothers lives with us in a cottage behind our house, so we frequently have Jeopardy nights when I’m home over the summer. And that’s just the family within 10 miles: we also have a big family reunion of about 45-60 people every summer (usually around, and sometimes on, my birthday) and I always look forward to them.

Being close with my family isn’t something I’m ashamed of: having close relationships with them, and always having a group of people who I know love me unconditionally no matter what, has helped shape me into the person I am today and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So, Sheila and Richard (sorry I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to use your first names), I truly want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you guys so much (even though I never say it), and can’t wait to come home over spring break so we can fully dissect the musical Hamilton together from both the creative and philosophical sides of the show (please note, mom, that if you don’t have every song memorized by that time, I won’t speak to you until you do: this is important). I will now wait by the phone for you to call me in tears after reading this.