Letter to Mom
I’ve come to the realization that I will never be good enough for you. No matter what I do, I will never do enough. No matter what I say, I will never say the right thing. No matter what route I take, I should have taken a different one. No matter how I handle a situation, I should have handled it differently. I will never meet your standards. I know that. You know that. Everyone around us knows that. And I’m sorry. So deeply sorry that I have failed you. I’m sorry that I will never make you proud. I’m sorry that I will never be the woman you have wanted me to be.
You constantly contradict yourself. You constantly complain about my actions, my words, my thoughts, every aspect of me. You are always the first one to tell me when I have done something wrong. You are always the first one to comment about what I haven’t done. It doesn’t matter what I have done, all that matter is what I haven’t. You dwell on everything I haven’t done. You point out only what I have not fulfilled. You choose only to gripe about my unemployment when I have been turning in applications and getting interviews. What is the point in that? As soon as I’m a step closer to having a job, that’s when you choose to complain about the fact that I don’t have one. You remind me of my worst enemy from high school. You snicker at me and make fun of me. You break me down and laugh at me. As soon as I leave the room, you are the first one to start bad mouthing me. I guess you feel that everyone should know how horrible of a person I am. And how terrible I treat you. You talk about me to my sister, my grandmother and your husband. But when you talk to these people, you only tell them the bad things I have done. You never admit the rude comments you have made. You never state the mean things you’ve done. You never tell them how you treat me. You never fill them in on the whole story. Why is it that you want everyone around you to dislike me? Why is it that you want everyone around you to think the worst of me? This again, proves my theory of you being my worst enemy from high school. But mom, I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m not in high school anymore. I already graduated. I have earned the right to leave the drama, gossip and conniving bitches behind. You gripe at me about my lack of housework yet when I ask you what I should do, you tell me you’re tired of asking for things. Either you don’t know how to communicate, or you really are simply playing games with me. The only reason you encouraged me to even move up here with you is so that you could do less. You could just hand over the cooking, the cleaning, the errands and all the responsibilities to me. There are some things that a woman should be able to handle on her own. A woman should be able to grocery shop. A woman should be able to get the necessities at wal-mart. A woman should be able to complete housework thoroughly and timely. A woman should be able to cook meals and clean up afterwards without all the complaining. All of which you say you “just can’t do.”
You constantly contradict yourself. You constantly complain about my actions, my words, my thoughts, every aspect of me. You are always the first one to tell me when I have done something wrong. You are always the first one to comment about what I haven’t done. It doesn’t matter what I have done, all that matter is what I haven’t. You dwell on everything I haven’t done. You point out only what I have not fulfilled. You choose only to gripe about my unemployment when I have been turning in applications and getting interviews. What is the point in that? As soon as I’m a step closer to having a job, that’s when you choose to complain about the fact that I don’t have one. You remind me of my worst enemy from high school. You snicker at me and make fun of me. You break me down and laugh at me. As soon as I leave the room, you are the first one to start bad mouthing me. I guess you feel that everyone should know how horrible of a person I am. And how terrible I treat you. You talk about me to my sister, my grandmother and your husband. But when you talk to these people, you only tell them the bad things I have done. You never admit the rude comments you have made. You never state the mean things you’ve done. You never tell them how you treat me. You never fill them in on the whole story. Why is it that you want everyone around you to dislike me? Why is it that you want everyone around you to think the worst of me? This again, proves my theory of you being my worst enemy from high school. But mom, I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m not in high school anymore. I already graduated. I have earned the right to leave the drama, gossip and conniving bitches behind. You gripe at me about my lack of housework yet when I ask you what I should do, you tell me you’re tired of asking for things. Either you don’t know how to communicate, or you really are simply playing games with me. The only reason you encouraged me to even move up here with you is so that you could do less. You could just hand over the cooking, the cleaning, the errands and all the responsibilities to me. There are some things that a woman should be able to handle on her own. A woman should be able to grocery shop. A woman should be able to get the necessities at wal-mart. A woman should be able to complete housework thoroughly and timely. A woman should be able to cook meals and clean up afterwards without all the complaining. All of which you say you “just can’t do.”