Mother Knows Best...
...or does she? God, sometimes, I just hate my mother. She does these small things that frustrate the fuck out of me. For instance, she likes to bring up passed incidents during moments that have nothing to do with it...remotely even. GRR It pisses me off. Today, we were sitting in the car. I said something that upset her to the point, where I received the usual rant: "You're so rude...you don't know how to do this and that...You're so disrepectful...etcetera." Of course, I let it all out through my other ear. Why should I please her? I kept my mouth shut; bit my tongue before I could blow up in her face. *It's not worth it, Fran* I thought to myself. Then, mom just had to make an UNNECESSARY comment. "You think you're so gorgeous...you're not."
Hmm...
I think for a moment. What the fuck does that have to do with being 'disrespectful' and all that other bullshit she just gave me? NOTHING. That upsets me so much, when she tries to get me for other things. It's as though getting upset over one thing gives her reason or power to get me for another thing. Although...I still don't understand what beauty has to do with anything. My mother has brought me up to please others. If I'm dressed a certain way or acting a certain way, I have to change immediately. What's the point? They're going to end up hating me in the end after finding out how fake I was towards them. I want to be ME. I honestly don't care what others think of me. I have grown up with that for the last nineteen years. People either like me or they don't. Whatever. Ugly or not...I got my looks from mom. So there...
Hmm...
I think for a moment. What the fuck does that have to do with being 'disrespectful' and all that other bullshit she just gave me? NOTHING. That upsets me so much, when she tries to get me for other things. It's as though getting upset over one thing gives her reason or power to get me for another thing. Although...I still don't understand what beauty has to do with anything. My mother has brought me up to please others. If I'm dressed a certain way or acting a certain way, I have to change immediately. What's the point? They're going to end up hating me in the end after finding out how fake I was towards them. I want to be ME. I honestly don't care what others think of me. I have grown up with that for the last nineteen years. People either like me or they don't. Whatever. Ugly or not...I got my looks from mom. So there...