Sorry Daddy, but I need the right to get lost!

DADDY, this is not going to work. I need the right to get lost. I need to be able to get into scrapes. I need to have a life that you cannot see!

The other night when I was coming home in an Uber car and it went a different route, you rang within seconds – it’s embarrassing! Whatever Donald Trump might think, South London is not that dangerous. Daddy, you went to wars when you were young. Also, how do you know I am actually where my phone is? I might just give it to someone in the library while I go out on a wicked assignation. Only kidding: but you get the picture.

I know you do this because you care, but part of growing up is growing apart. I am very aware that when I go to university I am going to have a whole bunch of people that I stay in touch with from school and that I can reach them really easily. But they are friends! They are not monitoring me and I am not monitoring them. I know you are not trying to catch me out but when I am away, I do not want to think all the time that someone is watching me. We have both read 1984. You don’t want to be Big Brother. Or do you? If you want to get in touch with me, how about calling me? And if I don’t reply, then call again later. Isn’t that how it worked in the old days? So the day I am 18, I am turning off Snapchat and banning you from my social media feeds. You can keep me on findmyiphone because that’s useful. I demand the right to be alone. Properly alone.