**Diary Entry: A Mother’s Worry**
Sometimes I drop by my old accounting firm—not for work, just for a cuppa and a chat with former colleagues. The other day, I stopped in again, and as usual, the conversation turned to lingering worries. Vera, an old workmate of mine, let out a heavy sigh the moment I walked in.
“I don’t know what to do with Emily anymore,” she said. “The girl’s thirty-two and still acts like she’s eighteen. No job, no family, no plans—just her phone and nights out with her mates. I’ve stopped giving her ‘fun money,’ but of course, I still buy groceries and cover the rent. What else can I do?”
Listening to her, I could feel Vera’s pain growing sharper. She’s nearly sixty, worked hard her whole life—first as a young woman, now well into what should be her retirement. Yet here she is, carrying not just herself but a grown daughter who refuses to grow up.
“I tell her, ‘At least get a part-time job!’ But she says, ‘I watched you grind away at three jobs for pennies—I don’t want that life.’ The most she does is babysit the neighbour’s kid twice a week. That’s the extent of her ‘career.’ Says she won’t settle for less.”
Emily had every advantage—first-class honours, a brilliant university record, sharp as a tack. In her teens, lads were always buzzing around her. You’d think she’d be living her best life. But when it came to building a career, she decided starting at the bottom was beneath her. She wanted a top role straight off, a fat salary. Those don’t just drop into your lap—especially with no experience.
“I’m not asking her to become some high-flyer,” Vera went on. “Just a functioning adult! But it’s like she’s waiting for a bloke in a flash car to whisk her off to some fairy tale—wealthy husband, a villa, Maldives holidays. Real life doesn’t interest her. When I try to set her up with decent lads, she turns her nose up. Too poor, too dull. But what’s she bringing to the table?”
I could see the weight of it crushing her. This wasn’t just venting—it was despair. How do you reach a grown woman stuck in a teenager’s mindset? Dreams are fine, but when they’re just excuses to avoid effort, that’s trouble.
“The worst part?” Vera added quietly. “She’s kind-hearted. But her mind… it’s like it’s frozen. Like she’s afraid to step into real life. And I’m not going to be here forever. What happens when I’m gone?”
I nodded, thoughts racing. Where do these stories come from? Vera gave Emily every chance—education, support, a home. Yet something went wrong. Too much coddling? Maybe Emily’s just terrified of responsibility. Or maybe she’s holding out for a perfect life, rejecting anything ordinary.
“Sometimes,” Vera murmured, “I wonder if it’s my fault. Did I spoil her? Make every decision for her? Is it too late to fix it?”
I couldn’t bring myself to blame her. Stories like this aren’t rare. I’ve known people who rose from nothing, and others—bright, capable—who’ve drifted aimlessly. Sometimes parents’ expectations break their kids. Sometimes fear of failure paralyses. And sometimes it’s just laziness dressed up as ‘finding yourself.’
But one thing’s certain: Vera didn’t deserve this. She did her best. All she wants now is to see her daughter stand on her own two feet—grateful, responsible, finally grown.
Children don’t always become who we imagine. But maybe Emily will wake up in time. Realise that time isn’t infinite, that her mother won’t always be there. Life doesn’t wait for those who wait for miracles—it passes them by.
