Oh, crap... Mother's Day is bearing down on us.
Guess it is the perfect time to start this community.
Did you/do you hate your mother? I don't mean the sort of hate like "I hate my Mom 'cause she wouldn't let me go to the party" sort of hate. Everybody has that and it passes. I'm talking about real and lasting hatred.
Were you relieved when your mother died? Or will you be? Does she put unfulfillable demands on you? Do you wish you'd been born from a test tube or fantasize about being given up for adoption?
Yeah. I know. Believe me.
My mother is dead.
I'm pretty glad about that. She died without me being there, even though I'd taken care of her for most of my life. While I'm sorry I didn't finish it out, I don't miss her. Every time I make a life decision I am thrilled that I don't have to hear her input. I am overjoyed at every holiday that I don't have to call her. For the last year of her life I dreaded talking to her on the telephone and didn't see her, even though I lived only 40 minutes away.
Since she died - actually, since I decided to stop having contact with her - I made a life-long commitment to my beloved partner, realized how she undermined my relationship with my father and stopped worrying about what she thought, what she'd say or what she wanted from me.
In short, I finally - at age 37 - I finally relaxed.
I gotta say - she wasn't a horrible mother. She wasn't Joan Crawford in "Mommie Dearest" or anything. She never hit me or starved me (though she dieted me constantly) or let me be sexually abused. I was certainly never "neglected" - Christ, I was never actually alone, even at night, until I was 14.
She walked me to and from school until I was ten. I wasn't allowed to walk the five blocks (we lived in one of the statistically safest towns in America) to the idyllic center of town to go to the store until I was 12.
I grew to adulthood believing that all girls who didn't marry lived with their moms forever. I lived with mine until I was 32. When I did move it was the most traumatic thing I'd ever endured. Not because I had fears - because she did. I had to promise to come back and sleep over two or three times a week (I didn't) to call twice a day (I didn't) and to leave a lot of my stuff at her house (I did, but nothing I really wanted), etc.
I used to call her every night between 11:30pm and midnight. If she was watching a tv show or doing something else when I called she'd make me call her back in an hour. If I was involved with a friend or doing something she'd get resentful and either get passive-aggressive or deliberately keep me on the phone for 45 minutes.
When I was a kid and made friends she was always jealous of them. I was never allowed to have friends over to the house and never allowed to go to other friends' houses. I had one sleep-over in my life - my thirteenth birthday - and I attended one (a friend's bat mitzah) and all my friends thought my family was crazy.
When I was in my late teens through the time I left I wasn't allowed to keep anything in the house other than in my room. Sometimes I'd come home from school or work and find all my things - shampoo I'd left in the bathroom, food I'd bought, my coffee-maker, jewelry - out on the back porch. On the grounds that they weren't in my room.
I had to pay board fees, even though my family was financially comfortable and I didn't want to live there in the fist place - and I had to pay the cable fees even though it was mostly my mom who enjoyed the enhanced tv and the cable wasn't (and wasn't allowed to be) hooked up in my room.
Even though I lived there until I was 32 I wasn't allowed to have my own phone (which I offered to pay for) keep a car at the house or invite a guest in to use the bathroom when they'd driven me home.
Okay, enough complaining.
Let's just say I hated my mother and if you hate/hated yours too, then please join this community and let's talk about it.
Talking about it makes it better. We can hope, anyway.