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I Hate My Mother!
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Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in I Hate My Mother's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, January 16th, 2008
6:36 pm
Wow, that was a bit of a hiatus.
Hello there. Still here.

I watched one of the ultimate "I hate my mom" movies of all time today.


Which is, incidentally, out on DVD in a pretty good Special Edition. A little slender on the Special Features side, but at least it is out there. It made my sweet girl cry. A lot. Poor baby. I love her.

I think I'm going to compile a list of great "Mother Hater Movies" soon.

Keep hating them. Srsly.
Thursday, May 11th, 2006
7:44 am
Working Girl Blues
Just watching the Special Edition of "9 to 5" (which is great) and I remebered what my mother aways used to say when we watched it.

There's this part where the office stooge Roz (Elizabeth Wilson) is eavesdropping on people in the ladies room - she hears one girl discuss her salary (an infraction of the rules) and this chick subsequently gets fired.

So the character is trying to be brave and hold it together. As she's cleaning out her desk and talking to Jane Fonda's character, she breaks down a little bit and says "I promised myself I wouldn't cry."

It's very touching. She's lost her job, which she needs to take care of her kids, and she's trying to be brave.

Well, each and every time my mother and I watched the film, mom would say "That's so stupid! Why on earth would anyone cry just because they got fired? What's the big deal?" I tried to explain that being rejected by being fired hurts and besides, somne people actually need their jobs, but she wouldn't hear it.

She was so insulated that she couldn't imagine being fired and being desperate and being sad and at the mercy of fate.

She never had to experience that sort of situation, true, but most normal people can empathize. Most people aren't miserable, spoiled, privilaged brats who take everything for granted and can't feel for anyone.


I hate her.
Tuesday, May 9th, 2006
12:48 pm
Oooh! Contest!
Okay, here is your assignment -

Take a traditional Mother's Day image (it can be anything you want) and Photoshop it (or use scissors and glue in RL and then photograph) and send it.

It's the Anti-Mother's-Day Image Contest!

Feel free to enhance your image with text, pics, violence, etc.

Do your worst! It's okay! This is a Mom Free Zone!

And Good Luck!

PS: Yes, there will be a prize... I just don't know what it is yet.
11:00 am
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.
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