as i venture through my door and downstairs i feel like im entering a whole new world, often fearful that i will end in a lions den by mistake. as i make my way down the stairs i am greeted by one of three things; a series of questions, an accusation or attack, or silence. this last is my favorite except for the fact that most often this means something is wrong or i did something to upset someone. the anticipation holds me barricaded in my room, my safe haven. they say you are supposed to feel safest at home, with the family, but this is where i feel the least at ease, the most on guard, in full armor shielding myself from criticism; like a soldier in line for battle.
from as long as i can remember my character, my style, my behavior has all been criticized; the more comfortable i feel the more unacceptable it seems to be.
you look like a boy. your pants are too low. your shirt is too small. those are boys pants. dont you have some girl clothes. you look like a street walker. you look like a slut. why would you want that? what did you do to your ear? you dont need any more holes in your head! if you think thats attractive. you look like youre on drugs. you spend too much time with her. why do you need to talk her? is he your boyfriend? why would you want to be a part of that? no boys in your room. it doesnt look right. youre going to wear that?!
these are some of the questions and comments i hear daily about my choices and my self expression. hearing this began to hurt too much that it just became easier to keep to myself. when i was going to a family event or religious event dress what was deemed acceptable and otherwise do my own thing thing and share as little as necessary. i was tired of hearing disdain and disgust in every comment about who i was.
my mom has now grown angry and hurt that i do not enjoy sharing the goings on in my life with her or my feelings or problems with her. but why would i? if the simple most meaningless aspects of my character received so much discouragement why would i risk that same negativity regarding deep and intimate parts of my being. it just hasnt seemed to be worth the pain. rather than understanding that there is a reason for my seclusion and discomfort and discussing that i am instead blamed of shutting her out or not wanting anything to do with her.
from time to time i will bring up something that happened at work or a concern i have or something i am considering. i am open to discussion and advice and sometimes just sharing my excitement or enjoyment. rather than recognizing this as an attempt to let her in, include her in my life, i am accused of only using her for help, only coming to her when i need something. at this point i dont know what she does want me to share with her then.
so the communication between us has dwindled to long talks and arguing that often end in tears and emails. the emails are probably my biggest pet peeve. my mother is constantly saying that none of us communicate and we need to start acting like a family. so what does she do, send out emails daily with random bits of information “please look for my car key and put it in the top drawer of my dresser”, “we are having baked chicken for dinner with a new noodle dish”, “its raining, dont go out unless you have to”. first of all, to me communication is best if it is face to face or atleast person to person such a via a phone. email to me is basically a business tool (and can be used for letters between distant friends for quicker receipt than snail mail or when postage is unavailable) these are all simple phone call conversations that dont need to be spamming my email box. if i have a question or need to tell her something ill just pick up the phone and dial her a number, then i know that she gets my memo and i get the answer if i need one. i guess it irrates me more than it should, but it has become one of my biggest pet peeves. maybe because with my social immaturation i have continued to work on pushing myself to have real conversations and not resort to tactics such as hiding behind my computer screen and it just seems a big step backwards to me.
and as it seems, through these fights and arguments essentially we are both searching for the same thing; respect. she feels that she is not respected or treated as she deserves to be and i struggle for the respect of an equal, the adult that i am. i want my choice in how to spend my time to be validated in that if i am doing something i am not expected to drop what i am doing to complete a task or come and have a conversation that my parents demand at any given time. whether it be watching tv, writing a paper, or discovering the cure for cancer; whatever i am doing is a contentious decision i have made of how to spend my time and that should be respected. at the same time i want my parents to feel that they are respected and appreciated without having to divulge my personal life.
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