onsdag 30 september 2009

Mothers..



Mothers…
They are wonderful caring creatures, lovely and totally terrifying.
When you grow up you redefine your person, and also the relationship to some people in your life. One such person in my life is my mother.


Since my parents’ divorce my mother has been my dearest friend. We talk several times every week and she is in almost all my decisions in life. Since I was I kid my mother’s word has been the strongest in my life even when I hated hearing it.


Growing up I’ve depended and listened to the people around me, unsure about myself and trying to learn to know myself. The older I’m becoming the more I’ve learned. Today I was thinking on who I am. And I realized that maybe I understand why something’s are so difficult nowadays. I’m maturing and starting to use all my own experience and giving myself the answers to my questions. I’m not leaning on others I’m standing on my own.

Now to my mother.
This transformation is not easy to adapt on the relationship to hear. She means well, loves me but has sometimes difficulty understanding my point of view. She wants so much for me and has not realized that I’m not a screaming teenager anymore. If I don’t like something I’m not ranting about it. I have a hard standing my ground and telling her off, scared to hurt her feelings. It often ends up in just that when she recognizes a little too late that I’m not interested or willing. She gets hurt and thinks I’m ungrateful. Not appreciating all the work and thought she has put into it. Sometimes I’ll try to explain (obviously not good enough) but she still heads on convinced that it’s the best for me and can’t understand my rejections when they are not what she thinks is common sense and smart.


I have my own inner world, my own likes and dislikes. I do things my own way, I dress my own way and I like to decorate my home my way. Sometimes my way of thinking is not the same as my mother and she has a hard time understanding me and the reality that she needs to respect my way of thinking even if she thinks I’m a complete idiot.


It makes me sad that I’m so bad at getting thru to my mum. It’s like she doesn’t understand how much I love her and that it’s just because of that I’m have a hard time speaking my mind. If only she would listen and don’t be offended by my opinions. I don’t disagree with her to make her sad, I simply disagree because I think in a different way.

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