“I would never have given birth to you!”
That’s what my mother said to me, and it’s sat deep in my flesh like a sting all my life.She didn’t just say it once, but more often, and I could never comprehend where this hatred came from.
Recently, after about 16 years of separation from her, I invited her on a holiday trip and paid everything for her and gave her everything she wanted in time and watched her and me behave.I was altruistic and generous. And she seemed to enjoy everything.
Soon after, I invited her and my rest of my family to a birthday party and wanted to understand if I had learned enough about narcissism to confront them with their behavior.I did not do this aggressively, but simply asked questions about the past.
So it wasn’t until I was 58 that I really learned that my mother always thought I was “unwanted.”
Today I know that no sexual contact (assuming consent) is unintentional.It is a free choice. And the ignorance that you don’t get pregnant again immediately after a birth is just a lukewarm excuse for me.
She only wished she could have accepted her former boss’s offer to become the head of a newly built branch.
But I was probably already on the way, but from now on unintentionally.By the way, she hasn’t been able to put aside the hatred of me for the next 10 years and showed me every day how much she hates me. But today I finally realized that their hatred is their problem and does not automatically make me a “bad person”.
And as far as the birthday party is concerned, I had also understood a few things:
When I was invited, she had spoken explicitly vaguely about her time of arrival.It used to unsettle me, or spark a dispute when time planning was messed up. That day I had remembered all these celebrations and planned their late arrival, so that the grill was perfectly heated and it could start immediately.
Next, I saw her questioning gaze because the tables on the terrace were empty: another part of my plan to bypass her planned scolding.
She wanted to ask hypocritically, “Do we need to help you?” With the undertone to “you probably don’t get anything baked?”.
But I had planned the food for indoors, without disturbing insects, had already covered everything and put cold appetizers visually beautifully prepared only covered with foil.So the only “super-mom” help was to pull off the slide and choose a place.
Everyone seemed content with the food.When we wanted to get out on the terrace, I knew from my dear neighbors that they didn’t even ask if they should be cleared, but rather just where exactly? And after that everything was in its place and I could dedicate myself to my guests without fear of the subsequent work.
My family, however, asked loudly.But when I said succinctly, “Oh, let’s stand,” a plate wasn’t moved and nothing was covered, or put in the fridge.
On the terrace then, my mother began to talk about our journey.
However, she told it in a way that every listener, including my brother’s new girlfriend, had to believe that she was the patron of the whole thing.We had visited a tulip plant in Holland and during a short rain shower we found a place in a hall and used it for a meal that I had prepared and had with me. From her mouth, however, the whole day was raining and her mood was actually too.
Then I went in briefly to get the big plan off the site and immediately realized that when I took over the booklet and talked about my paid trip, I immediately stole the show from her and put it in the shade.I also said to everyone that she liked the day we spent it there much more.
And I had hardly any more opportunity to talk about it, because my mother said to the site plan: “She also gave me a tulip book for my birthday (and turned to me) you can have it again.”
To which my father jumped in and said: “That was all my idea when I was planning a company outing for my colleagues and we were there for the first time in Holland and mother liked it so much there.
Now my mother suddenly got tired and she got cold.So everyone’s focus went back to her and everyone was trying to keep her happy and bring her a blanket. With that, the topic of travel ran, because she realized that she could not score with it.
In the end, I realized that even after more than 50 years, nothing had changed with her and would never change anything.When I later told them that other people can change significantly in 50 years and grow in difficult things, I screamed at me on the phone: I WILL NEVER MAKE 20 YEARS OF THERAPY, HOW YOU!”
As a result, I broke off my relationship with my family again, because I will never do such celebrations again and I never want to have my mother’s hatred in my life again.