The Truth

By , Hartland, WI
At one thirty in the morning, I stumble in and head straight to my room.

“Christine?” my mom questions. “Do you know what time it is?”
Oh no. I wasn’t expecting she’d still be up. She’s never up when I get home. “It’s me,” I answer trying to sound as sober as possible.
She gets off the couch and walks over to me. “Where have you been? You were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago.”

I froze. My eyes glued to the floor. Surely she had no idea I had been drinking. After all, I did kind of sober up before I left. All I had to say was we started the movie late and I wanted to finish it. She would believe me. She always does. For some reason, though, I can’t bring myself to tell her that. I feel…guilty. I wish I could take the night back. I wish I would have gone to Danielle’s. I wish I would have never taken that first drink. Or last. But I did. I realize I have to tell her the truth.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I lied tonight. I didn’t go to Danielle’s. I went to a party instead. The reason I’m home so late is because I was drinking…”
After telling her about my night, I no longer felt ashamed. I was no longer tied down to the guilt I would have felt the next morning. I no longer had to lie.

Looking back to the night, I know I made the right decision to tell the truth. Suffering through my punishment was beneficial. I not only memorized way too many Friends quotes, but I also had the chance to rebuild the trust I had shattered with my mom. Now when I go out with my friends, I arrive home on time and alcohol free.
The trust I’ve gained over the past year means more to me now then it has in the past. I know I haven’t been handed trust, but I’ve earned it. Owning up to the mistake I made that night only helped me to grow. I learned making mistakes is okay, as long as I’m able to learn from them.





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