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I Love You Mother But It Hurts
How do I repair what has been broken?
My mother and I converse on the phone. It’s less terse, slightly more open than a year or two ago. She mainly talks about her life, explorations, and current things. Mine are glossed over but I don’t mind this too much. She’s never quite capable of giving me the reaction, the love, the reassurance I need.
I’ve tried typing her. A narcissistic, borderline personality, it all fits the structure of how I was raised. It’s comforting and frustrating to read about these types of relationships. A sort of eureka light bulb goes off but I realize that this is who she is. I can and will not ever change her.
It’s like a cold bucket of ice being thrown on me. I will never quite have a mother in the sense of nurturing, comforting, caring and being there for me. I’m the adult, and she is generally the one I need to reassure and placate.
People always say that family is complicated. This couldn’t be truer with my family. I’ve struggled with what I am besides what she may be.
I can be a sensitive soul, and I was much more sensitive and easy to hurt when I was a child. With people who aren’t close to me there really isn’t any way that I can be hurt. I don’t take offense to things easily. I’ve adopted the mentality that what someone says in…
