There are forbidden topics in our society, condemned by society. I consider the topic of children and parents to be one of them. It is common in our society to talk about love and appreciation for elderly parents, and another opinion is sharply condemned. I don’t care what other people have to say. Today I will tell my story.
I have absolutely nothing to love my mother for, and I can safely say so. A side effect of this kind of candor is the rounded eyes of whoever hears it. They give off something like:
– How could you? She gave you the best!
She gave it to me… Did I need it, this “best”?
Yes, I was always full and poorly dressed, with clean hair and nails. At school I always did all my assignments and none of the teachers ever complained about me. Was I happy about that? No.
As an adult, I was firmly aware: food and shelter over my head were not enough for a child. My mother and father were cold to me emotionally. Dad was only interested in my grades, and Mom rebuked my every action.
When I was a teenager I had a lot of trouble communicating with my peers. I was overweight at the time, and I had dental problems as well. A baby tooth stayed with me until I was twelve years old, and the molar never grew back. In order for the tooth next to it to grow back normally, I had to have the baby tooth removed. Instead of a normal smile, there was now a huge hole in my mouth. Of course, I immediately got a nickname: Baba Yaga.
No admirers were out of the question. While the other girls were dressing up, putting on makeup, braiding – I wanted to die. I didn’t want to take care of myself – I was so bad emotionally. At school I was bullied every day, and mostly by boys, they would say that I wasn’t pretty.
My mother used to yell all the time:
– What a dirty girl you are! The other girls are so neat, and you are so ugly!
Her yelling only aggravated my condition. Instead of somehow helping me with my hair, buy fancy clothes, or fix my smile – she just mocked:
– Where are your groomsmen? Do I have to buy them?
Just when I needed her support the most as a woman, my mother would only throw barbs. Do you need food or comfort when you do not want to live?
Most of the time I was called out to cover for my parents. They were more willing to let me go out in the evening with my girlfriend than with my boyfriend. I’d come to get someone, take her to the place where the guy was waiting, and go away. I didn’t want to go home, so I often sat behind the barns all alone.
Don’t ask me about relationships with the opposite sex in my adult life. I was afraid of men and avoided their company in every possible way. And I grew up as a rather callous person, who does not know the joys of friendship, mutual support.
Thanks to my wonderful mother, I never felt like a woman. I took one thing with me into adulthood: a willingness to be hurt. It was as if I lived my life without taking off my boxing gloves or looking back. My father could have given me the confidence that a daughter gets from her father. It wasn’t there. He was too careful to build a personal life.
They are completely different now: gracious, kind, interested in all areas of my failed life. They resent that I rarely call and answer questions dryly. I just formally visit them, bring products, but no more. My mother is still trying to find out something, to chat, but I do not want to.
What do I mean by all this? Parents, just know that it is not enough to feed them and buy them notebooks. Talk to your kids, take an interest in their problems, help them overcome challenges. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a copy of me: withdrawn, broken, and unhappy.
