We all know that mothers and daughters can have an interesting dynamic between them.
The interesting dynamic between my mother and I is simple . . . there isn't one. There never has been one.
My mother . . . not much to say here . . . it is actually hard for me to even type the words MY MOTHER . . . because I really don't feel as if I have one. Certainly not in my adult life. I have not had the guidance of a female in any capacity for many, many years. I don't have that parent I can call or run to at a time of great need, excitement, love, joy or sorrow. I don't have a parent who knows what my favorite color is, what my favorite flower is, my favorite cookie or snack food what type of socks I like to wear, what brand of toothpaste I use . . . and many more intimate details of "me".
I don't know what I am missing really . . . I don't. I don't know because I never had a bond with this woman who is my mother. She was detached and unavailable my entire young life. She could not be bothered with me. Have you heard the expression benign neglect . . . this would be a fitting description at times.
I didn't have a mother who went to my swim meets to cheer me on to victory. I walked to my meets with my towel draped over my shoulder . . . alone. And I walked home alone wrapped in my wet towel , in the dark, with a satisfied smile that I had done well (I have an entire shoe box full of ribbons and medals to prove it). I didn't have a mother drive me to my cheer competitions and watch me compete. Again . . . I walked alone to these. I didn't have a mother teach me about makeup or what clothes to wear to a school dance. This I learned from Vogue and Cosmopolitan. I didn't have the mother who was excited to hear about my first kiss. If you recall I was petrified that my mother would find out. I was asked by two boys to my Sr Prom. I wanted to go with both because I was equally in love with both of them (I was 18 for pete's sake). Instead of having a mother to guide me through this tumulteous time . . . I had a mother sitting and calling me names. And when my 'boyfriend' slapped me across the face at said Sr Prom. That same mother told me I deserved it.
I learned to master my emotions quite well at a very young age. I learned to join every group or club possible in school to escape her. I took every babysitting job I was offered to get away from her. I worked two or three jobs at a time and still babysat to get out of that house. I paid her rent when I turned 18 to live in my her house because I was too embarrassed to attempt to move out on my own.
I purchased a plane ticket one month before I graduated from high school . . . a one way ticket to Chicago . . . and I left the day after I graduated. I was not the least bit frightened. It was my very first plane ride and I was full of joy and hope. I could not wait to get away from her. And I basically have not spoken to her, except for a few occasions, in the past 23 years. (she has never made an attempt to contact me)
I don't tell people or acquaintances this information . . . I learned a long time ago that I am the one who is judged for not speaking to HER. Not the other way around. My own mother-in-law insisted for years that I must mend fences with my mother, without knowing any details of this relationship.
I am judged harshly for my decision . . . but what I don't tell people is what I went through for 18 years with that woman. What I don't tell people is that I don't think of this woman unless someone brings it up to me. I don't dislike her, I don't hate her, I don't like her and I don't love her. I have no feelings towards this woman because she is virtually a stranger to me. I don't need to tell people these 'things' . . . I did all that in therapy . . . for years. And what I discovered is that I am a good person . . . I am not at fault because some women are just not meant to have children. And that is not my fault. I just happen to be a casualty of that poor choice.
That interesting dynamic between she and I set the tone for any relationship I have in my life. I have trust issues with anyone I come in contact with. Blogging has actually opened my heart up more. (having children really changed the path my heart was on) Blogging is a huge step for me as I am an extremely private person. I still have not told any of my friends that I have a blog. I never will. If anyone I know personally discovers it, I will likely become private. It is so much easier for me to be a bloggy friend than a real life friend.
I'm not writing this to seek pity or make anyone sad. I abhor hearing 'I feel sorry for me'. God gave me that woman to make me the woman I am today. To make me the wonderful, LOVING, (and totally neurotic) available mother that I am today. I am a happy woman and I am at peace with this decision and have been for decades.
I will end this simply by asking . . . What annoys you most about your own mother?