Mammanipulation

Mammanipulation

What comes to mind when you think of a mother? A goddess of a person, full of love, warmth, comfort, compassion? Someone who gave you life and did everything to help you succeed in it?

I wish that was the description of my mother. At one point in time it was. This story is about the one moment that shaped the way our relationship was built, and then ultimately shattered.

I want to remind the audience, that this story is entirely from my point of view and that we all need to remember there are two sides to every story. I can only speak on my decisions and motivations.

Now for a little backstory: my mother grew up in a very unloving and abusive household. Her first husband cheated on her, her boyfriend after that left her, and my father ultimately cheated and left her too.

Divorce can be one of the ugliest things to happen between two people, and when there are kids involved it is even worse. My sisters and I, the youngest of all the kids between our parents, were caught in the middle of this mess (our older siblings were grown and off starting lives and families of their own) but my mother ultimately got full custody of us, the house, but also much of the debt from the marriage. When my father left, he cleared out their joint accounts, but luckily my mom had a secret savings account to make ends meet in the aftermath of the separation.

My mother worked full-time, but my grandma moved in to help watch us kids. My room was right next to my grandma’s room. Every night, my mom would go into grandma’s room to help her change into her night clothes, and read the Bible together, and talk or pray.

One night, there was a conversation that I will never forget. I heard it through the wall when I was supposed to be asleep. My mom was crying while talking to my grandma, pouring her heart out, wondering how she was going to do this as a single mom. How she was going to get by. How much my father had hurt her by cheating and running off and leaving her with the kids and the bills.

As a child, it is heartbreaking to hear your mother cry. You idolize your mom, she is the life-giver, the tucker-inner at night, the boo-boo kisser, and all of the amazing things moms do. I felt powerless. I felt angry at my dad for hurting her this way. I felt like I had to do something. It was in that moment I decided I was going to help my mother in anyway I could.

Now again, I was just a kid, but even kids can be helpful in their own way. I began cleaning more, I would help make breakfast, I would do the dishes, and I would take out the trash. Trash was actually my assigned chore but I tried to make sure I did it without being told. Anything within my power of doing, I did. I just wanted there to be one less thing for my mom to worry about. I’d often show off what I did. It probably wasn’t perfect, but my mom seemed to appreciate it. She still didn’t seem happy or less stressed though.

Our household was a very religious one, and for much of my childhood and teenage years, we lived a sheltered life. We went to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. We were taught about having the joy of the Lord in our hearts, and trusting God to take care of all of our needs. But looking at my mother’s behavior, she rarely seemed happy. She complained all the time about everything, nothing seemed good enough.

I continued to contribute as much as I could into adulthood, and then more when I starting working. I’d promised my mom I’d help her get out of debt, that we were a family and life will be more enjoyable when it is not hanging over her head. I lived in her house as an adult, and for me, it was the responsible thing to contribute this way. I was still cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, ect. My contributions to the bill paying allowed us to pay 20k of her debt in just a couple of years. There was a leak in the roof and to replace it was going to be 12k. My mom didn’t have the money. We were conquering the bills but we hadn’t paid off enough to just have that kind of money lying around. But what we did have was my college savings account. Insurance money from when my older sister passed away that my mom had put away to help with my college expenses. I told her to just use it for the roof. I’m an adult, I will figure out how to pay for my own education.

I felt like a responsible adult. I felt like a loving and helpful daughter. I felt like I was making a difference in my mom’s life.

Then I met my boyfriend, who is now my husband, and that is when everything changed.

Now my mother has never liked any of my boyfriends, not a single one my whole life. Even just friends of mine she hasn’t been particularly inviting to. Anyone I chose to spend time with outside of my family seemed to irk her nerve.

Now, to be fair my taste in men has not always been the greatest, but with this guy I was so sure she would love him.

Raised Christian, not super devout, but still held the faith, was employed, a Marine Corp Veteran, was tall, handsome, and had a couple kids. He checked all the boxes of what a parent would look for in a match for their daughter. My mom loved kids, and often complained she didn’t get to see her grandkids enough, also she was a step mom, and I though this would be a great way to learn from her experiences. Hear stories that weren’t just her past tragedies.

And my man was so willing to come to meet my family and spend time with them. But when he did come and met my mother and sister there were things he noticed that I’d never noticed before.

For starters, he noticed how much of the housework I was doing. My mother wasn’t always home when he came over, she worked full-time too, but when I was doing the housework, cleaning, laundry, whatever… my sister would be in her room PC gaming, and when my mom would get home she’d take over the tv which he felt was rude, but it’s her house so he didn’t question it. He noticed I wasn’t thanked for taking care of the housework, which I brushed off. Of course they were thankful for it, they’re my family, they love me, and beside I’ve been doing it my whole life, it’s one the ways I help my mom.

He tried to connect with my mom; he tried talking to her, but she was usually watching one of her shows when he was over and she was home, so she didn’t give him the level of attention he truly deserved. Also, she just did not seem interested at all in getting to know him. She seemed to perk up and pay attention when he offered to help with some “man” jobs around the house, but overall, the conversations between them weren’t great. My mother would complain as she often would about this or that, and he would patiently listen, and offer advice that she would not take.

Thirdly, when I was contributing less money to the bills because I was living my life as a young adult and having fun with my man and his kids, my mom asked me if I was going to continue helping. Now keep in mind, I hadn’t stopped giving her money, it was just less than it had been.

He also noticed, I wasn’t happy after speaking with my mom. And it was usually because she was complaining about something or guilt tripping me and making me feel like I didn’t love my family because I was having a life outside of the house.

He would tell me about these things he noticed. He said I was like Cinderella; a servant in my own home. I told him no, I just love my family. I want to help my mom in any way I can, I want to get her out of debt and help her to be happy finally.

My sister and I got in a fight one day. Her temper was short. My little sister, is bigger than me, and quite strong. I went to my room and she literally kicked down the door. I called my boyfriend crying and he came over after work and built a locking mechanism with wooden boards to ensure that would never happen again.

When my mom saw what he did, she was furious. Now mind you, she’s not mad that my sister literally kicked down my door out of rage, she’s mad that he did something that would prevent it. She tried telling him to leave, I told her he is my guest in my room, and I’m an adult, I pay her every month, it counts as rent, and he can stay as long as he likes.

That was the straw that broke the camels back.

My mother signed the paperwork to evict me. That devastated me to my core, I could not believe she would do this to me. When I asked her how she could do this to me, she said I made her do it.

Looking back, I can see the manipulation that took place. That I allowed to take place, that at the time I couldn’t see because it was just a normal day in my household.

One moment as a child I made a decision that defined the course of my life for a long time. Not all defining moments lead to positive outcomes, but I am thankful I am no longer in an environment where I am emotionally abused and manipulated. My mental health has grown in leaps and bounds.

If I ever had a chance to talk to young me, I would tell her “You mother’s burden is not yours to bear.”