I love my mom but

My mother is a great woman, she was loving, caring, and everything I never wished for yet received. But as I grow up, I realized how much lacking she is. She's just human, lacking in so many ways, yet still amazing. However, those lacking qualities, I found out, were mostly directed at me, the youngest and the only girl in our family (not counting my mom). Her concerns were something I understand, but her overbearing yet blatant difference in treatment was something I highly dislike. She never lets me out the house, and most of the times she lets me, I could barely even convince her. That, while something I understand the reason behind of, is something I don't like. I'm almost of legal age, but the older I get, the more they get stricter. I never got to participate in field trips my whole life, and I missed a lot growing up. There was also this one time I won in a competition (it was like a health competition where the healthiest kid wins) and my mom looks so disappointed that I won, she even told me that there's a lot of prettier girls in my class, yet I won. I felt so bad that it affected the way I see myself. And every now and then, she'd tell me how ugly I am, and nitpick my most hated features. She always tells me how a woman should do household chores, and then compare me to my bestfriend. And then while my grades were either above average or average, she'd tell me I did bad and guilt trip me into being more into my studies. When my bestfriends ranked up in class, she compared me to them, and it just hurts. It hurts even more that sometimes I get jealous of my friends despite knowing I did great with my studies. My mom also plans things without my permission, like how she wanted my 18th to be big despite me telling her how I don't want that, and that I wanted it to be more personal, small yet meaningful. I mean, this one is not that bad but I just wanted her to understand me more, I want her to listen. She never did listen to me; when I had a panic attack, she told me to pray and then told me that I wasn't praying, that's why it happened. I couldn't even tell her about my depression, and all the things I wish I could tell her because she'd just dismiss them all. I wanted to tell her so much but I'm scared that I might just get disappointed with her lack of interest. I wish she could praise me, she never did after all. I wish she could understand my desire to express myself, my desire to do the things I want to do. I wish she would let me do everything at my own pace, I wish she would just not tell me that she loves me after a long day of painful words spat out one after the other. I wish she would let me dress myself the way I wanted and not get an insult, I wish I could be more than the person she wanted me to be. I wish she would let me hang out with my friends easily, I wish she would trust me more. I wish she would listen to me, hear me out and tell me she loves me because she does, and not just because she felt guilty for yelling at me the whole day. I wish I could treat her more than a mother; like a bestfriend.

Rereading this made me realize that my mother cares about me a lot, and that this rant of mine is stupid and driven by frustration.

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anonymous Other July 11, 2022 at 4:44 am 0 0