Those days when acting like an adult felt embarrassing.

It was embarrassing to act like an adult in front of my parents.

"You've grown up so much." "You're able to do things like this now, aren't you?"
I was somehow afraid of being told things like that.

It wasn't a feeling of loneliness, like having to leave my parents once I was no longer a child. It was just, purely, embarrassing.

For example, I have a younger brother three years my junior, and it was embarrassing to act like a big sister. My brother was always running around outside and I couldn't take my eyes off him, so I would scold him at times like that. But I didn't want my parents to see me doing it.

It was somehow embarrassing to be told, "You've become a big sister now."

In my early childhood, I was interested in toys for taking care of babies like "Mell-chan," but I couldn't bring myself to say I wanted them in front of my parents. (I did get bought Licca-chan and Sylvanian Families.) Even when playing house, I didn't want to play the role of the mother; I wanted to be the baby.

It wasn't just my parents who made me feel this way; it was also adults I was somewhat close to... for example, my piano teacher.

When I was in the third grade of elementary school, I finally finished the "Piano no Mori 3" textbook, and my teacher told me, "Next, let's play 'Für Elise'." "Für Elise" was a piece I had admired, and I had been looking forward to it for a long time. And yet, when I was actually told "let's play it," for some reason I wanted to escape from that spot, but I couldn't, and I just puffed out my cheeks.

Even with my homeroom teacher, although I would show off that I could do my schoolwork, if I accidentally said something precocious, I would feel deathly embarrassed afterward. I wondered if they were gossiping in the staff room about how that child was saying things beyond her years.

That's right. Gossip. Adults immediately get excited, saying, "My child said this!" I realized after becoming an adult that they say such things because they want to get excited about how "cute!" it is. I also end up telling others about my two-year-old son's precocious behavior in front of him or tweeting about it on X, but I reflected that he might feel embarrassed...

I, too, reached puberty and am truly becoming an adult.

And yet, even now, I cannot act like an adult toward my parents. I intentionally act childish, playing the part of someone clumsy who doesn't understand anything, trying to draw out words from my parents like "You're such a fool" or "You're still just a child."

I never told my parents about my boyfriends, and I didn't talk about marriage until right before it happened (so when I told them I was getting married, they were quite surprised).

I sometimes feel that my parents wanted me to remain a child. I wonder if they didn't want me to grow up. They often said things like "You have no sense of fashion" or "You have no sex appeal," and they didn't like me talking about male friends. When I tried to go out wearing a short frilled skirt, I was scolded. They wanted me to be a woman who works hard at her job, not a housewife. (In a way, I was grateful for that.)

I think I might have been playing the role that my parents wanted.

I didn't want them to be moved by my growth. That's right, I don't want them to be moved. I am grateful to my parents, but when I was made to write "thank you letters" in elementary school, I could only write about recent things I was thankful for, like "Thank you for teaching me how to study the other day." I also disliked dramatic, emotional displays.

The reason I suddenly remembered these things is because of the novel I am currently writing.

I am writing one novel to submit to a creative contest, but the thought, "Is a girl being helped by a man really okay in this day and age? Isn't it outdated?" keeps getting in the way. I remember being scolded for talking about my male friends. I want to write about a romance between a man and a woman, but diversity makes a romance between a man and a woman feel outdated.

But it's okay now.
Now that I know clearly what has been acting as a shackle (or a handcuff?), I can write it.

I plan to submit a novel to the Work Novel category for the Creative Awards.
It is just a plan, and I haven't actually finished writing it yet, but I am declaring it here.

I am writing a work that re-examines the nature of organizations and work from a different angle, set in the same world as "Black Christmas," which I wrote previously and which, thankfully, many people have enjoyed reading.

Since the novel isn't even finished yet, it might be premature to say this, but
if by some chance I were to win, I would want to go to Tokyo with my son, have my mother in Chiba look after him, and attend the awards ceremony.

But even if that were to happen, I am sorry, but I would not show the novel I wrote to my parents.

I don't want my parents to think, "So you write such mature novels."
Because, after all, acting like an adult in front of my parents is embarrassing.

(End)