I came on here to write a cross stitching blog post about what I have been working on (don’t worry I’ve done lots of stitching) but just with things coming up in my life I have just felt that I can’t write about stitching. So today I’m going to be writing about something I hate talking about, something that I find so hard to write down that I don’t know how well this will be written. I will try to go over this post to correct any mistakes, but if there is a lot please forgive me. Now if you find reading emotionally tragic posts a triggered then I will say goodbye to you here and I hope that you come back to my blog with my next cross stitching update, if you aren’t sure what I mean and you don’t think you should continue then I will tell you that this has nothing to do with suicide or physical/sexual abuse. Nothing like that.
So one of the reasons I didn’t come back as soon as I said I would was because typing long posts on a phone are very hard for me, which I believe I talked about in my last post. So you might be thinking I’m writing this on my phone once again; I’m happy to say though that today I finally decided (getting much encouragement from my partner I should add) to finally get the Google Pixel and the Google keyboard. Just like to add that I love it so far and it is great to type on.
The reason I am calling this post “Telling the Truth” is because what I am about to write I have never written or talked about in depth except to my partner. I once wrote a bit about this in an autobiography assignment I had to write for English and to be truthful I found it one of the hardest thing to ever do while in school. What I wrote though seems like something so small and I think in many ways I have moved on and let go with what had happened.
This had been when I was very young and you might think that being young and knowing kids can be silly and annoying to there parents most of the time. While I guess I must have got my mom frustrated too many times. Now I can’t remember the days it happened or even what I had really done. All I can remember is my mom’s hand slapping me across the face and me running and crying in my room; my tear stained face pressing against my pillow wondering what I had done wrong to make my mom hit me, thinking and wondering maybe my mom didn’t love me. My brother and sister never got hit, not across the face. Mom would come in soon later and comfort me; pat my back till I sat up and then hug me. She would tell me how sorry she was and how much she loved me.
I can’t remember how much this happened, but I knew once I got to around sixth or fifth grade that it stopped, at least that is my guess. Now I know my mom should have never done that, I know that she was the parent and I was the child and hitting a child is no way of showing them they did something to anger them. My mom should have left the room or the situation that was causing her to be upset and take a breath. But I also know that anger has a horrible way of controlling us when we need to be the ones control it. When I first ever talked about this I found it so hard, as I don’t see my mom as the physically abusive. I think I am telling you this though as I almost need the base ground and maybe I just feel if I am telling you everything else I may as well tell you as much as I can.
You would think that after what I just told you that maybe we prepared our relationship and are really close like mother and daughter should be. In reality, though we aren’t, in reality, I don’t even want to see her. It wasn’t what she did to me then, no, it is what she does now; what she won’t stop doing even though I have had very hard conversations asking her to stop. My mom has and is a very strong woman, which I love. But she is also the type of woman that when she gives advice you should take it without question; when she asks about how you are doing she will press you until she needs to give you advice or tell you that you are doing everything wrong. I will go over to my mom’s to visit and if I go to my sister’s room to visit with her my mom will complain and talk to me about my sister behind her back.
I guess after reading the paragraph above it must seem as if a girl is just complaining about silly things about her mom. That I must not know that my mom just does all this because she loves me, wants what’s best for me. All that might be true, but my mom never seems to be happy.
She doesn’t like that I am still working in a care home and will always tell me that I should go back to school to make more money, she hates that my partner is self-employed; not really because he is his own boss but because paying himself per job is not the same as getting a check of the same amount every month. She thinks that he should be paying more; always telling me that everything should be 50/50 right down the middle. The thing is though it isn’t like we are just a fling couple starting out, we have been together over 4 years and consider each other as partners. When I think of two people as partners I think that they are there to help the other in need to care the weight when the other falls down. It shouldn’t just be the man always caring everything for the woman at times it needs to be the woman as well, That is how true partners should work. However, though no matter how many times I try and tell her that or tell her that what we decide as a couple is not her business and she needs to stop acting rude and treating my partner like he is not wanted she doesn’t seem to understand. Oh, wait. That’s wrong; she first tells me I’m mean for talking to her like that when she is just asking and therefore makes me feel like I am the bad one all because I don’t want to talk about personal matters with her that is between my partner and I.
My mom is great at making me feel like I have done something wrong or I should feel guilty for something I have said or done. I don’t even know how it happens or even how she can suddenly make me feel ashamed for everything I am. I find more now since I have moved out that she had this way of keeping me inside myself. Like I can’t feel like I can talk freely. I become so quiet when I visit. In my head, I keep telling myself you don’t want to say the wrong thing or move the wrong way. I don’t know, it is very hard to explain. I guess I just feel like I have to think about every single thing I do when I visit and I guess that just puts such this pressure to be perfect so she just doesn’t get mad at you or think its dumb when you express something.
I don’t know why I always feel this need to please my mom, to just see if she will ever be proud of me. She says she is, but then she will tell me I shouldn’t waste my money on cross stitch when I tell her I bought myself a cross stitch pattern. She will tell me that there are better things I can spend my money on. Maybe she just doesn’t understand that cross stitching is my therapy, how much it calms me and clears my head. Now don’t get me wrong she loves that I cross stitch, I have stitched her many pieces, it’s just I think since I’m young I’m not allowed to spend my money on things I want. Even with this tablet I know if she knew I had bought this she would have something to say about all the money I just wasted.
In writing this I have been trying to piece together why all of this is such a problem, maybe I am over reacting, maybe I should stop being this daughter that hates her mom for just wanting the best for her. And as I type that I also feel like I just want my mom to love me the way I am. I don’t want to feel like I have to close myself up when I go home and visit, I don’t want to feel like I can’t hug my partner when we visit because I guess in my family couples can’t be close to each other when visiting.
I’m sorry for writing this very sad post, but after having it all come out on here I feel like a small weight is off my shoulders. I thank you all so much if you stayed and read this, you are all wonderful. I hope my next post will be on a lighter note and show many pictures of my stitching. Happy stitching everyone