Hate the One You Came With

March 20, 2008

Ever since I can remember, I have always tried to make my family happy.  Do this, do that, good little slave.   Oh you’re happy, not here in this house you’re not.  Good grades, sorry but we don’t recognize good grades in this house, only bad.  This hasn’t changed even though I am in my thirties.  I have always lived in a house where I have been the quiet one, the one who no one notices unless I was doing something I shouldn’t.

So to make my family notice me, I rebelled.  Bad grades, skipping work, stealing the family car, even dating the wrong guys.  It got so bad that I even got myself good and knocked up, by a guy my family couldn’t stand.  Even better, I moved out of my family’s home on my mother’s birthday.  Best comeback I could think of at the time.  I learned my lesson from that really quick.  Within a few months I was back under her roof again, and right back into the same situations I rebelled against.

The reason I say this is because it doesn’t matter now what I do, I am back to being a good slave girl.  Oh you’re happy, well not on my watch.  You have a boyfriend, not if I get to his parents first.  Oh you have kids, not under my roof, they are mine to control and use against you as I please.

For the last eight months, my mom has been controlling my children without me knowing it.  I guess maybe I should have known it since I have been around my kids all the time.  Well really she has only been controlling my oldest son but now his attitude had been passed on to his younger brothers and sister.  They all have become ungrateful little green eyed monsters.  They want everything and when I remind them I can’t give them anything they get angry and break things or turn on me and either treat me like dirt or treat me like they are my parent, something my mother has allowed them to think was acceptable behavior. 

In the last month things with them having gradually gotten worse.  A couple of weeks ago, my oldest son was acting out.  After weeks of hearing how poor a mother I had become and how my children’s discipline problem was because of a lack of acting on my account of not “doing” anything I decided to try the other way of thinking.  

This is where I would like to interject something about the way I discipline.  When I was a kid, my parents would beat my butt if I did anything wrong.  I didn’t think my kids needed to be brought up in that type of environment.  I wanted my kids to not be hit.  I didn’t want to have my kids growing up afraid of me.  I also knew this was a possibility seeing as I knew someone who was raised in a non-violent family, including his step-parents.  However I know that this isn’t working for us but I still don’t believe in hitting or spanking or any of that as a form of punishment, yet my family believes it is the only form of punishment so I thought I would give it a try.     

I removed my “big, fat ass” from the chair I was in and attempted to make my son mind me, i.e. I tried to physically move him back into the other room-after many attempts of just telling him to go and pointing him in the direction he needed to move.

When he resisted, I attempted to use “police” style force, placing his arm behind his back and wrapping my arm through it.  He could have gotten loose from my grasp and he knew it.  I didn’t want to hit him and I knew that he wasn’t being hurt by this so I figured it would be between my terms of punishment and theirs.  I was very wrong.

Instead of trying to free himself he decided to take another course of action being as though we were right outside my mother’s room.  He screamed and she flew out of her bed and came after me.  I let my son out of the hold to defend myself.  I could have just let her attack me without putting up a fight of any kind but I didn’t want to end up far worse than I did.

I will admit that I pushed her hard enough she bounced onto the end of her bed but she got right back up swinging.  As she always does during our fights, she went for my face, flinging my glasses off with her slightly open talons.  Once we landed on her bed, to keep her from further hurting me, I held her down as I usually do only this time she was on top of me.  I grabbed a handful of hair and held her to the bed.

“Get the F#$* off of me” she screamed multiple times, which was interesting since I was under her.  “Are you done yet?” was my response.  Once her limbs had slowed, I let go of her hair and let her up, just like I always do.

Since she knew she couldn’t beat me physically, she began screaming at me telling me how she does all of this because she is worried about her grandkids because there mother is such a poor piece of crap and doesn’t care for them.  At this point, I reminded her that she threw these same grandkids she cared so much for out on the street a little more than 2 years ago.  So much for that claim.

She then turns the situation back at my friend-the one who lost everything because she took us in.  It is all her fault.  That’s right, it is her fault.  Not sure exactly how this is all her fault but I plan to find out.  How could it be her fault, she did what no one else would.  Put up with my ungrateful kids, driving them everywhere, buying them things they don’t need, and making sure they didn’t want for not.  Sounds like this is her fault doesn’t it.

This whole thing got me to thinking.  Over the course of my life, she has driven out anyone in my life whom she couldn’t control or who affected her control of me.  Those people who let me think I had a mind or even a half a mind.  Those who defended me when I wouldn’t defend myself.  Those who cared about me in any capacity and took me away from everything keeping me from being the good little slave.

I have had a few boyfriends in my time and one way or another he reasons we broke up link back to my mother or my family in some way.  Hell even my now ex-husband left because of her.  She then drove out my friends, my fiance, and now she is trying to drive out my one last remaining person left in my life outside my family.  I would like to say here that I wouldn’t be a responsible human being if I didn’t admit that I did have a part in all of the relationships breaking down.  My mother wasn’t the only one responsible, yet she did commit a large number of grievances I did nothing about.

As I sit back and watch, she treats her the same way she treated my ex-husband, I wonder how long it will be before she leaves like the rest of them did.  The way it works is like this, she showers them with gifts and attention one minute then curses their very existence the next.  She is trying to make her leave me like the rest of them did so I will be back to the slave role without complaint.

One thing my mother doesn’t count on is me.  Spring is the season of birth and rebirth.  I have been reborn, like the phoenix from the ashes.  This pheonix is evolving and changing, ready to kick some tail.  I am tired of being kicked around by life and by my family.  I am better than that.  I deserve to be loved and respected by my children and my family.  Have my personal opinions and parenting styles not called into question by my family and not be talked about like I’m not here and have no mind but that is for another post. 

So from this day forward there will no longer be the shy slave girl, taking a whooping and not standing up for herself.  I am a goddess of war, and I will not turn tail and run away so be careful what you say or do to me.



  1. Wow this is a long one! and just call you Athena.. lol..

  2. To Sherrie ~ I know it was long but I had a lot of things I needed to get off my chest. And thank you Athena is one of my favorite goddesses and the name of my cat.

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