Thou Shalt Honour Thy Mother.....
July 23rd 2009 01:59
The one question I have to ask, is, Why?
Ok, sure. Not only did she give birth to me, (which was her choice, not mine) she also spent 5 years in IVF treatments to have me. Yet again, her choice, not mine. I didnt ask her to have numerous blood tests and fertility treatments. How could I? But still, in my childhood, I was constantly told about this 5 year process, like, I should be so greatful, because my conception and birth was out of the ordinary, so jeez, I should really, really, honour her.
At every oppurtunity she told me how much I looked like my Dad. Even after she split with him, and started her all day every day Greer fuelled saga of how all men are bastards, she would also say how much I looked like him. The bastard.
But then, at 9 years old, in a doctors office, he asked for my history. And, in telling him about the IVF, she was asked, was it an anonmous sperm donor? And she says yes.
Whoa, wait, back up a minute! How the hell do I look like him then? You lie to me, every day of my life, and expect me to trust you? You think, after that, I'm going to believe anything you say?
Still, for years, I had her in my sights as a hero. A strong, feminist woman, who fought off not one, but three domineering husbands, and after that, 2 boyfriends. Yeah, she knows how to kick men in this ass, this lady. And she taught me, drilled it into me - you are a man eater. So beautiful, so capable. Trust no man, ever. Use and abuse them because thats all they want to do to you. Get in first.
And so, I did. I used, and abused, man after man.
Then I got raped. It was a revenge attack by an ex boyfriend who was sick of my shit. Looking back on it, I cant blame him, but I still want to kill the prick. I have a lot of rage in me. But not so long after the rape, I met a lovely man, one that understood me, and for the first time, I did not want to use and abuse. I wanted to nurture and love. And so, I learned about men. I emulated them. The more women I met, the more they sounded like mum, and were tricksy, back stabbing and moody just like her. Guys were on the even, and whenever I joined a workplace or social group, I found myself gravitating towards the men. Easier conversation. No drama. Just talk.
And the great wheel of life swung around, mum got old, and I found us living in the same house, cohabiting, me, her, and my man.
And after so long being apart, I began to notice more than ever her venomous personality. I had never recognized it before - I saw her as a hero, like I said. But after living with and understanding men, I suddenly realized why all her relationships had failed. She doesnt give. She cant. She has to know what everyone is doing every second of every day even if it has nothing to do with her. If things dont go her way, she throws a tantie and blames all the men that have ever passed through her life for all of her own failings. When I refuse to conform to what she wants, she dregs up all the things she's ever done for me. Five years of IVF. Giving birth. Getting me away from The Bastard, the only father I've ever known (who is, actually, a really sweet guy) training me for years not to trust men. By God, I should be so fucking greatful that she fed me and clothed me for years, it should be no hardship at all to bend like a reed in the wind and do everything she says.
For fucks sakes, Im almost 30.
In my teenage years, she was absent, galavanting with boyfriends while I experimented with three day parties, binge drinking and drugs.
After the boyfriends, she joined social clubs while I was in tertiary studies. I barely got looked at.
At 20, when I had a breakdown and tried suicide multiple times, she was no where to be seen. Didnt want to talk to me, or know me. It was my husband who stood by me and loved me and dragged me out of those tough times.
And after I turned 25 and she had no family, no friends, and no men to attack left, thats when she came for me. After only spending minimum time with her, and, I might add, enjoying our odd lunches and shopping trips, I agreed to look after her in her old age. She refuses to retire, even though shes eligable for disability, and gets around with a walking stick (that she depends on so heavily she can forget about it and leave it in the car for days at a time) and I didnt mind mild old mum moving in with us.
But I forgot, didnt I? Her inability to form human relationships does not exclude blood. Its harder for her to understand me then it is her favourite TV characters. She cannot, ever, let a day go by without trying her best to monitor my every move and change it into something she likes more. Oh, and as for my husband, well, he's just a man. Be damned that he looked after you, loved you when no one else would. Be damned hat the relationship has been glowing with mutual love for ten years. Fuck all that - fuck him off. He's just a man. He only wants to use and control you.
Hmmm.....
I try to keep it nice. I lie with a smile on my face and a sweet tne in my voice. I pretend Im interested in her words, hanging on her advice. Sometimes I need space, and retreat, which only makes her chase me, all over the house, telling me things I dont care to hear. And every few weeks, we fight.
She always starts it. Some useless little statement. She will start wailing that we dont want her here. That no one loves her. So I bend, back down. Become the adult, as I have always been, and talk her down. There there old dear, settle yourself down. That kind of thing.
Last night, she attacked, and I couldnt take it any more. I attacked back. She wasnt expecting it, and retreated hurling insults.
This time, if she says she's leaving, I'm going to say Bon Voyage. Dont let the door hit your arse on the way out. Sayonara, fuck off, am I ever gonna see your face again no way get fucked fuck off!
Im done with it.
I know, I know. So many poor little dears out there with mothers that dont love them, dont know they exist. Dead mommies. I should be oh so ever grateful that mine was kinda there. Kinda cared. That she made what at least she considers to be, an effort.
But I dont trust her, never will, and never had, since that moment I was nine years old, and she said 'Yes' when the doctor asked 'anonmous donor?'
And I cant forgive her controlling me, parenting me now when I dont need it. I cant forgive her training me to hate men. I've tried to be nice, to do the good daughter thing, for the last few years I've made every attempt to make her comfortable and happy.
But I am not responsable for her emotional problems, and Im not going to wear them any more. I have to get away from her before it infects me even worse than it already has.
Ok, sure. Not only did she give birth to me, (which was her choice, not mine) she also spent 5 years in IVF treatments to have me. Yet again, her choice, not mine. I didnt ask her to have numerous blood tests and fertility treatments. How could I? But still, in my childhood, I was constantly told about this 5 year process, like, I should be so greatful, because my conception and birth was out of the ordinary, so jeez, I should really, really, honour her.
At every oppurtunity she told me how much I looked like my Dad. Even after she split with him, and started her all day every day Greer fuelled saga of how all men are bastards, she would also say how much I looked like him. The bastard.
But then, at 9 years old, in a doctors office, he asked for my history. And, in telling him about the IVF, she was asked, was it an anonmous sperm donor? And she says yes.
Whoa, wait, back up a minute! How the hell do I look like him then? You lie to me, every day of my life, and expect me to trust you? You think, after that, I'm going to believe anything you say?
Still, for years, I had her in my sights as a hero. A strong, feminist woman, who fought off not one, but three domineering husbands, and after that, 2 boyfriends. Yeah, she knows how to kick men in this ass, this lady. And she taught me, drilled it into me - you are a man eater. So beautiful, so capable. Trust no man, ever. Use and abuse them because thats all they want to do to you. Get in first.
And so, I did. I used, and abused, man after man.
Then I got raped. It was a revenge attack by an ex boyfriend who was sick of my shit. Looking back on it, I cant blame him, but I still want to kill the prick. I have a lot of rage in me. But not so long after the rape, I met a lovely man, one that understood me, and for the first time, I did not want to use and abuse. I wanted to nurture and love. And so, I learned about men. I emulated them. The more women I met, the more they sounded like mum, and were tricksy, back stabbing and moody just like her. Guys were on the even, and whenever I joined a workplace or social group, I found myself gravitating towards the men. Easier conversation. No drama. Just talk.
And the great wheel of life swung around, mum got old, and I found us living in the same house, cohabiting, me, her, and my man.
And after so long being apart, I began to notice more than ever her venomous personality. I had never recognized it before - I saw her as a hero, like I said. But after living with and understanding men, I suddenly realized why all her relationships had failed. She doesnt give. She cant. She has to know what everyone is doing every second of every day even if it has nothing to do with her. If things dont go her way, she throws a tantie and blames all the men that have ever passed through her life for all of her own failings. When I refuse to conform to what she wants, she dregs up all the things she's ever done for me. Five years of IVF. Giving birth. Getting me away from The Bastard, the only father I've ever known (who is, actually, a really sweet guy) training me for years not to trust men. By God, I should be so fucking greatful that she fed me and clothed me for years, it should be no hardship at all to bend like a reed in the wind and do everything she says.
For fucks sakes, Im almost 30.
In my teenage years, she was absent, galavanting with boyfriends while I experimented with three day parties, binge drinking and drugs.
After the boyfriends, she joined social clubs while I was in tertiary studies. I barely got looked at.
At 20, when I had a breakdown and tried suicide multiple times, she was no where to be seen. Didnt want to talk to me, or know me. It was my husband who stood by me and loved me and dragged me out of those tough times.
And after I turned 25 and she had no family, no friends, and no men to attack left, thats when she came for me. After only spending minimum time with her, and, I might add, enjoying our odd lunches and shopping trips, I agreed to look after her in her old age. She refuses to retire, even though shes eligable for disability, and gets around with a walking stick (that she depends on so heavily she can forget about it and leave it in the car for days at a time) and I didnt mind mild old mum moving in with us.
But I forgot, didnt I? Her inability to form human relationships does not exclude blood. Its harder for her to understand me then it is her favourite TV characters. She cannot, ever, let a day go by without trying her best to monitor my every move and change it into something she likes more. Oh, and as for my husband, well, he's just a man. Be damned that he looked after you, loved you when no one else would. Be damned hat the relationship has been glowing with mutual love for ten years. Fuck all that - fuck him off. He's just a man. He only wants to use and control you.
Hmmm.....
I try to keep it nice. I lie with a smile on my face and a sweet tne in my voice. I pretend Im interested in her words, hanging on her advice. Sometimes I need space, and retreat, which only makes her chase me, all over the house, telling me things I dont care to hear. And every few weeks, we fight.
She always starts it. Some useless little statement. She will start wailing that we dont want her here. That no one loves her. So I bend, back down. Become the adult, as I have always been, and talk her down. There there old dear, settle yourself down. That kind of thing.
Last night, she attacked, and I couldnt take it any more. I attacked back. She wasnt expecting it, and retreated hurling insults.
This time, if she says she's leaving, I'm going to say Bon Voyage. Dont let the door hit your arse on the way out. Sayonara, fuck off, am I ever gonna see your face again no way get fucked fuck off!
Im done with it.
I know, I know. So many poor little dears out there with mothers that dont love them, dont know they exist. Dead mommies. I should be oh so ever grateful that mine was kinda there. Kinda cared. That she made what at least she considers to be, an effort.
But I dont trust her, never will, and never had, since that moment I was nine years old, and she said 'Yes' when the doctor asked 'anonmous donor?'
And I cant forgive her controlling me, parenting me now when I dont need it. I cant forgive her training me to hate men. I've tried to be nice, to do the good daughter thing, for the last few years I've made every attempt to make her comfortable and happy.
But I am not responsable for her emotional problems, and Im not going to wear them any more. I have to get away from her before it infects me even worse than it already has.
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