The Saga Continues
Those of you who've been reading all along are familiar with the fact that things haven't been going so well in the parental unit department. If you're new and/or just want to refresh your memory, you can find most of the current drama here: <http://resthere.blogspot.com/2005/02/dance-puppet-dance.html>
(sorry for the sloppy link, I hope to be better soon.)
Anyway, after several weeks of just not responding to emails from my parents, I received one that asked about whether we'd be staying with them when we go to Canada this summer. I knew that if I didn't respond, I'd be accused of holding them hostage and therefore unable to make their own plans. So, I wrote them and explained that I'm still too hurt and angry to make a rational decision about how best to spend our time in Canada. This is what I got in reply:
What are you going to do,punish me the rest of my life for a trip we
didn't even go on??My biggest mistake was even mentioning it.it seems like you have been mad at me all off your life for one thing or another,sure hope you will be a better mother than I am.I hope you will spend some time with us when you are home but I want you to do what you want,the door is always open.I think you know that.
Love Mom
Unbelievably bad spelling and grammar aside, I was struck by several things about this missive. The idea that I am punishing her, for example. The lack of comprehension of the issues at hand. The old and oh so familiar attempt at guilt induction. And last but not least, the everpresent martyrdom.
I used to think that if she only understood how much she hurt me, she'd stop.
I used to think that if I didn't ask for much she'd understand that when I did ask, it was because I really needed help.
I used to think that if I had a good job and a nice home and a strong marriage and beautiful children, she'd be proud of me.
Now I realize that none of that is ever going to win her approval.
It is time for me to look at her objectively and determine what is possible in our relationship. Maybe then we'll move forward.
posted by Anna @ 17:04
4 comments
4 Comments:
Growing up witht he feeling you are, somehow, never quite up to the mark has to be a lousy feeling.
You may never know what kind of chains prevent your parents from making the expression you have so long sought. Perhaps your achievments diminish their own.
At the end of the day there is only one person that must approve of you - and that person is you. While the accolades of those we love are important and wonderful, the measure of success is in your eyes and no one elses. Live to make yourself proud; and I'm sure you are.
Your last two sentences seem to imply that you feel you are somehow the problem here. You are not the only one that has to look at the situation differently to move it forward.
I presume it goes without saying that you will at least visit them when you travel if not actually stay? If so then all you need to do IMHO is keep the mails upbeat till then.
As I'm writing this I'm thinkin "who am I to talk, I can't even tell my own mom I'm engaged!!!" LOLOL
Best of luck with your struggle, as always :-)
Thanks guys...as always your words mean more than I could ever express. Nonetheless I'm sure I'll use them to my advantage ;) All the best to you and yours...always, shan.
Oh Shan, I feel for ya. It's late, so I didn't even read the linked post, but your ma sounds uncomfortably like mine. In my case, I think it's part generational (she is 1st generation American) but also part family dynamic (she's the youngest of 3 girls.)
What's that mean? She's heavily insecure, but also wants better for her children. Those two combine to form the biting critique I always hear. The sad thing is that she doesn't see the success in all of us that her hard work produced: Auto Exec, Physician's Assistant, Chef, Lawyer, Teacher, Project Mgr., Engineer, college education for those that wanted it, tens of grandchildren. . . . Is it that she can't TASTE the fruits of her labor? I don't know about that, but I know that what she says doesn't change what I am. BELIEVE IN YOU, I do.
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