Mother once you this to scare...

First you ridicule the mother.

You thought she will love you and the undead, warm and comforting. And she loved a little in the beginning, and then began.

First, nothing was impossible. For some reason, not all. Because mom will yell. Or die. Or something to harass. And cannot be was exactly what I wanted, and had, on the contrary, semolina, piano and sleep at home. You were forbidden to rejoice, to want something, to read interesting, wear beautiful and embrace the one who liked it. Be sad, be angry and protest you were also prohibited.

Your stuff immediately hid from sight, as if it irritated any trace of your presence, as if she was constantly trying to make it look like you don't live here like you. She called to restore order. For her meant that you don't. What you are — for her, it meant a mess.





It is not suited to you absolutely everything, and pleasing her was impossible. All people in the world, the others and the opposite, she liked it more than you. She was always displeased with you, and you were afraid of her, afraid of her gaze, drew his head into his shoulders when she just passed by, but if you approached, it meant — once again you did something wrong, again, you are the worst. You always waited for something and never explained what you were supposed to guess and forever missed and again got a scolding.

You lived in the same house with this woman, having fear and not having the right to anything, even this fear, and dreamed that someday this will end, what you'll get, will comfort and warm and finally become love, and in the end a man came and took you with me.

You thought all the bad was over, that now everything will be different, that you take it on handles, but he loved you a little bit in the beginning, and then began.

First, nothing was impossible. No you have not explained why you do it somehow knew. It was impossible to be sad, to be angry and to protest, it was impossible to be happy and to want something, to do what I like and say what I think. Because otherwise he will leave.



Mother once you this scared when you were inexperienced, but then you grew up and you became a well without a mother, and she became sick, and you suffered from the fact that you do not let go, kept in prison, and counted the days until liberation.

With that man you was much worse than with my mother, because without it, you was too bad, without it you had no life, and you were afraid that he would hurt, and at the same time afraid that he will leave, because with this man you, like mom, wanted to be together.

To please him was too impossible, you always was the worst and every minute was waiting for bad news, having absolutely no idea how to prevent them. And you hurt for any reason, to spit on your desires and rights you again, there were no or even less because you fit into it voluntarily and said head for each minute that your love, which you again did not comforted, and in the end you have a new baby.

And again you think that everything bad is over, so that now you are sure you will love that all your previous woes are not worth a damn. And you were right, because your child fell in love with you a little bit in the beginning, and then began.

It does not suit everything, and to please him was impossible, and again you were all banned, but this time seriously. Because in those moments when he's not poking fingers into the socket, do not jump off the train, I did not try the substance, not lay face to the wall, in short — in those moments when your child is not tried some other way to destroy themselves, and in those days when he wasn't terminally ill — he was just in a bad mood and unfriendly with you for no reason, and again you was the worst, only this time it really mattered.



He threw my stuff everywhere, getting into your world and littering, destroying it, he left all these marks of his presence, as if to say — you're not here, this is my place now. He served your time, constantly throwing new tasks, and your wishes he was never interested in because you were not supposed to have them. He was always miserable, and therefore, any joy was forbidden and stolen.

So ridicule is man as his own children being bullied, not able to no one man and no mother in the world.

Every minute you were waiting for bad news and was petrified of any phone call. Only now it was not that the mother will be punished, and not that beloved will leave. Now it was about the fact that if you make a mistake — your child had an accident.

And then you gradually began to understand how small was the power that he had over you a man, and how insignificant were the stakes in that game that I almost you got used to the light. And how powerless you were against your mother, and what was your cloudless slavery in the parental home — you just figured that out now, seeing what real slavery and real power.

Such power, when you really got every moment can take everything away. When you can do forever miserable without even thinking about it. When you can hurt a thousand different ways, and you have none. Such power that it has over you is your child and that never had your mother.

And then you forgave my mother. published

Author: Malka Laurence

 

See also: About THOSE and NOT THOSE people

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Source: saintpetersburg.zagranitsa.com/blog/2894/dochkimateri

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