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Mama, I'm Coming Home




I was a BADASS! A brand new soldier of 6 whole months.....BADASS!


I was also a PAIN in the ass - rebellious, still bucking authority - a royal pain in the ass BADASS!


Rules? Didn't apply to me. They never had. Even as a child I spent a vast majority of my young years grounded because rules were stupid. I did what I wanted, I took my punishment and then I did it again.

As a teenager I did a little bit better, trying to be the good Catholic girl that I was being raised to be, but deep inside I couldn't wait to get out from under the thumb of my parents, mostly my mother who was the enforcer. When I graduated high school and felt sweet freedom, there was no turning back. Although I could feel the constant judgement, I did what I wanted regardless of how it hurt me or those around me.


Independent, reckless, crazy fun, rule breaker - all the things that Mom tried to punish out of me.


So many rules - I broke them all- and then I broke me - and tried to put myself back together.


I took all of that to the Army and made a new me. Kinda. One that I didn't care if Mom approved of. Because I was finally proud of myself, and I told myself that's all that mattered.


But everyone wants their parents' approval, right?


Lying in my barracks room, trying to get past the smell of wool blankets and musty pillows (if you know, trust me you know that smell), my favorite CD was in my Sony Walkman. 1992, Walkman's were the portal to the music universe! One CD at a time. The favorite on replay was Ozzy's "Mama, I'm Coming Home". I had been away from home for 6 months for Basic, AIT and Jump school. Because if you're gonna be a badass soldier, you have to go Airborne! Unless you get hurt before you even get to Jump school - which means you just sit there for weeks, not being able to train, waiting on new orders, and listening to Ozzy.


Finally new orders came! For Germany. Like what the hell? But first, go home on leave for your final "hurrah".


But was i even wanted at home? I mean, I didn't really leave on great terms. I didn't really have anywhere else to go. I was 19, not really many options as to where to go on leave. And maybe, just maybe, someone would be proud of me and not hate me, judge me for everything i had done before the Army.


Listening to these lyrics felt like I was speaking to my mom. Like I would never be good enough, perfect enough. I felt driven out, metaphorically. I never felt like I had a friend in my Mom, just an enforcer of rules. But I loved her and needed that love reciprocated.


Every time I hear the opening to this song, I get that feeling of anticipation along with dread as to how I would be received at home.


Ironically, I don't remember a thing about the reception I got. Weird.

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