If Dee's walls could talk, I would move out immediately, but you'd want to move in! I have an opinion, and I'm not afraid to use it! Be sure to view older posts if you haven't stopped by in a while!
That moment you’re trying to explain to your mother that you’re overwhelmed, but she gives not one fuck…still wants you to call her. Couldn’t ask: Why are you overwhelmed? What’s wrong? …not the way she operates, but “call me despite your devastation”…
My mother has trolled me harder than anyone else has in this life. Lemme tell you how surviving her crazy has been an opus achievement. I think that it is the most difficult relationship that I’ve ever had. I used to limit our conversations to Thursdays, because they were just that draining. I’d get a break and recover from the last call and, bam, she’d get me again…perfectly timed trolling is an art form y’all.
At any rate, if you’ve managed to survive an amazing, albeit narcissistic mother, my hat’s off to you. When you’re black and have to admit that your mom wasn’t exactly mom-ish all the time, you play a real charade around others. It’s not perceived acceptable to discuss issues with our mothers as Black children…you’ll get ousted. But there comes a time when it gets to be too much. Narcissistic mothers tend to turn us into over-givers of our time, ourselves, or our bodies. Just realized that. At 34.
But you know… there’s a whole thing here …especially as a Black daughter that makes it all entirely more complicated. For the longest time, I didn’t say anything. Didn’t fight back. Just accepted that mothers and daughters sometimes have difficult relationships. She made me strong and resilient, or rather her foundation that was built by her parents (adopted by great aunt and her husband) provided the base for the goodness that is I! I thank God for that regularly. I do believe that this relationship is the reason that I romanticize relationships, and why I cling tightly to familial relationships.
I’ve been taking care of my mom since 2008, and during this time that she can barely speak, I’ve been able to watch, listen, and understand our relationship better than ever. I also realized that, though she didn’t plan this situation, I don’t want to do things like she’s done to my own children.
Don’t misunderstand. I had a roof over my head, some pretty fly Christmases, sweet memories that I am thankful for…Those things hold you together during the in-between times, but again, you can’t fully understand the situation that is your life until you live it a bit longer. You now have this secret – “you’re not that close with your mother!” Sssssh, or people will think that something is wrong with you. That’s fine, though. People who have the “other” types of mothers – the ones who cook for your grown asses, and let you borrow money – don’t understand this type of mother.
Mind you, I will ALWAYS look after my mother. She’s cared for better than I care for myself roun’ these parts. She holds the office of my mother, and that comes with a grand level of respect. But, shawty, it hasn’t been easy. I didn’t have the worst mother, there are far worse situations, but I know what it’s like to be a planet in her orbit.
I am thankful to have been blessed with so many amazing older women friends in my life who’ve looked out for me, and taught me, and protected me. Without them, I wouldn’t have made it. They covered me when I knew not shit.
I’ve often wondered when or where things went wrong for my mother, hell my father as well. Where did they get derailed? They’ve never spoken about it. They never will. You’ve just got to pray for folks, and pray that they’ll make a turn. At least before they go and meet God.
On another note, my mom was insanely gorgeous. Like a classic beauty, Lena Horne-esque. She didn’t carry herself that way, though. I loved watching her do things, and I’d practice being her. Couldn’t wait to grow up to be just like her. As I got older, there was this thing that happened. Sudden withdrawals from me, not my brothers. You couldn’t ask about these things. You just had to hope that they’d “see” you hurting from the withdrawal and get it together. Nope.
You can choose to be angry about your life. You can choose to wallow. Or you can pull the best parts out, try to bury the rest the best you can, and ball out in life. God gives you wisdom from your lessons to help you understand, and to help others.
Because of my mother, I am strong, organized, witty, and resourceful. No matter who our mothers are, we always carry a piece of them with us. I’m learning to channel this windsong that is/was my mother in order to continue to honor her and find fulfillment. Despite having a troubled relationship with my mom…despite being a damaged daughter…there’s hope. There is forgiveness.
Now, you know one of my secrets.