My Mother

Every-time someone finds out that I’m on my period(through my mother), or the obnoxiously bright colored wrapping that the pads come in(found in the trash), I end up being treated differently for it. It doesn’t matter if I’m not moody, or I’ve been treating everyone with the same amount of respect that they ask for, I always end up being called horrible names(cuss words). It sucks I guess. Yesterday in the kitchen while I was folding clothes, me and my father were on the subject of shrimp since it had been a while and we just got some. I saw my mother whisper something to my father about me being on my period. He immediately shut his mouth and wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the night.

I just wonder why I feel so sad sometimes, or alone. Right now, I’m stressed since I have to worry if my body is okay because of abnormalities, I also haven’t been able to get out of the house. I just wish she were a bit more supportive at times. I love her the way she is, even-though sometimes I have hard time accepting that she is all I will EVER have as a parent for the rest of my life.

Me and her don’t get along since we’re so alike. I keep my distance, but I still have my relationship with her as a daughter to mother.

Sure, sometimes I’m moody a bit, but this happens without me being moody or provoking her. I get called horrible names, no one wants to talk to me, and I feel they avoid me like I have a disease. 

Sometimes she laughs and smiles about it, and then get’s offended when I snap back and tell her I don’t like being called those things, neither does she. She get’s what she expects me to be, moody. If she didn’t call me something so mean when I really need her support, and expected more out of me, maybe I would be nice back.

It’s honestly hard. It feels a bit embarrassing too, she calls me out about it with my brother and father around. It makes me feel disgusted with myself. Then I feel upset and then I cry, and then I have to hide until my face goes back to not being swollen and red from crying.

Usually even if it’s not that particular time of the month, if I express my anxiousness or sadness, she blames it on hormones and will tell me to suck it up since it will “Go away”. 

She likes to tease me too. Hands me a chocolate bar (for the “hormones”)and laughs and smiles as if she’s taunting me. I think she likes it.

It’s like she’s prodding me with a stick and then getting offended when I respond. It sometimes feels as if she is the only one who gets any emotional support in this family.

I know I shouldn’t complain. Ever since I was young though. If they had just heard me out when I was younger, then a lot of what happened, would never have happened. Sure I learned from my mistakes, but at that time, It could have easily been prevented. I just hope I can learn from her, learn the good and bad about her, learn what I want to be and who I don’t want to be. I don’t expect any more out of her than what she had given me.

I do lie to my teachers on my assignments about how good she is, a sugar-coated version. I guess it’s to use it against her in case she claims I talk about her behind her back and think of her badly. I have never said anything bad about her, just that all of what I say is how I see her through my eyes. She get’s very happy when others see her in a good light,  will even go as far as to forget about anything that’s bothering me if it means improving her image. She’s not so much a mother, more of a friend. She shares her personal life as if I am her best friend, holds back nothing, yet isn’t willing to give back.

That’s just how she is.

2 thoughts on “My Mother”

  1. Your mom shouldn’t try to be your friend, she should be a mother. I’m sorry she embarrasses you and I can’t believe your dad stopped talking to you when he learned you were having your period. That’s archaic! I am so sorry you have to endure this teasing and rejecting. One day you may have a mother in law, and I pray she will be wonderful and “restore the years the locust has eaten.” I hope you’ll be very happy; you deserve happiness and love.

Leave a Comment:

SCROLL TO TOP