She had always longed for a mother that she could have a heart-to-heart talk. Instead, her mother kept her down. In the end, she had to make a choice.

Growing up, my friends liked to stay the night at my house. My mother would bake crumpets and listen to their stories about the boys. My friends felt comfortable being with her. But I didn’t.

She was totally different with me. She made me feel choked and did horrible things to me. She read my dairy barefacedly when I was in secondary school. When I was in high school, she often came to my room to arrange everything – sometimes she took my clothes which she didn’t like and threw them away. In the evening, she would look at my dish and then immediately cut out my grilled meat without asking me. She was always interfering into my life … and that drove me crazy.

Seen from outside, it seemed that she tried to get closer to me, actually it was her secret behavioral controlling strategy. She gave naive comments to get on my nerves, such as “I suggest you to use mascara” or “do you actually like that hair style?” I would try to keep calm, if I had left, she would have stuck to me with some more criticism.

Occasionally, she looked like feel angry with me but I couldn’t figure out the reason. One night, we were sitting in the kitchen and suddenly, she said she couldn’t understand how I could have friends because I was overly stupid. I knew that my reaction would make the situation worse but I couldn’t stop talking with her.

The fight was going on and on. When I was in secondary school, we kept calling by names and even shouted at each other. Though my father hated arguing, he stood outside the fight between two of us. I knew how to kindle her anger by comments like “Mom, this jeans makes my butt looks flat”. I wasn’t proud of the way how I dealt with this, but at least this could protect me from her attack.


Shouting club

Regardless of our strange relationship, I missed her – or her opinions – when I went away from home for university. I phoned her and asked for advices about boys or university stuff. All of my friends did the same with their mothers; therefore, I thought I could do it too. Instead, she asked me whether I regularly did my exercises or was eating too much or not. I felt being badly criticized and completely depressed. 

During my home visits, I applied the best solution which I could come up with. I would behave with her as if I was her guest – I would have a wander around and talked politely with “please” and “thanks”. As usual, it could last for several hours before I realized she attempted to destroy all my efforts, later I would pay back, continued with bad manner till the rest of visits. I was dispirited when everything was screw up.

I wished I could have said that our relationship was good again, but it seemed to be never happened. Anything about me would raise her anger and hatred (and vise versa). The proof for that was when I stayed at home in Christmas holidays, in my family party, my ex-boyfriend showed up without being invited to tell me that he had been engaged with another girl. Being deeply shocked, I ran into the kitchen and burst out crying. She came after my back, not to comfort me but said that I was so cruel and impolite to leave the guest in the living room.

In the end, I made a hard decision about stopping this situation. For years, I dreamt about the normal relationship between us in some way, but it was really hopeless. At that moment, I was a fresh graduate who was trying to find out what would I intend to do with my life. Meanwhile, the relationship between her and me was not good at all. It was too bad that I started to come to a psychologist who advised me avoid meeting her. And I follow his advice. I thought it wouldn’t last long, but weeks became months. There was no calls or emails and most important, no fighting.

Keep the peace

During that time, I read about books about relations. I kept thinking about the moments between my mother and me in the past, then talked about my feelings but I believed that she didn’t care about it.

While I thought that I gave up about everything, suddenly I realized that this happened mostly because of my fault. When I grew up, we were so closed and there was no boundary between us. As soon as she came back home from her office, I immediately stuck with her. I followed her when she cooked dinner and even watched her doing exercises. Moreover, I usually phoned to her office to complaint how bored I was.

In the end, the support from our family members helped us do this. 2 years passed by. The first time I met my mother after that hard times was in the lobby of a hotel. She lived a few hours from me but she came round to me, and I thought that meeting her in the hotel was safer. We hugged each other, cried and ate something. We sat face to face, talked about business and books we read and I knew we wouldn’t talk about the past. There were still hurts for both of us. We would never be so closed; however, I didn’t feel that she would criticize me. Strangely, during this visit, she behaved to me like the way she did with my friends. She was sweet and charming.

Now we talk on the phone once a month and meet several times a year. We send to each other sentimental message, such as “This film reminds me of you”. But my mother is not the one I call when depress or seek for advices. We are not get close in that way. 

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