Happy Mother’s Day to all those moms out there in blogoland! For me the day is the most awkward of days. Mostly because I don’t have the greatest relationship with my own mother. It’s a little difficult to accept all the adoration shown to me by Hubs and the Little (even though she doesn’t understand what’s going on just yet) and be like: “yeah! I’m a mom! This is my day!” without feeling the same adoration towards my own mother. It feels selfish, and somewhat arrogant.
Don’t get me wrong, I definitely enjoy Hubs taking the wheel so to speak, fixing me a special meal, taking most of the responsibility of the Little off my hands for the day, and just making me feel extra special. It’s just weird because when I think of my own mom it’s like: “well, you gave birth to me and spent the next 18-23 years making my life miserable, until I got married and had my own children which you want to spend time with. Thanks?”
I don’t hate her anymore, but in hatred’s place I just have nothing. Complete indifference. I guess maybe that’s the feeling I’m trying to describe. Wishing my mother a happy Mother’s Day feels completely disingenuous, and for someone such as myself who’s struggled so much with my identity and figuring out who I am, I fiercely cling to my sincerity.
I don’t say things unless I mean them, ever. Which I suppose makes me rude and inconsiderate of other’s ego… But, yeah. That’s where I am currently, but I’m working on it. Not to become disingenuous, but to soften my rough edges, in an effort to be more considerate. In regards to my mother I haven’t quite made it there yet, but then again 23yrs is a long time to overcome.