And I’m afraid of losing it all over again
The story of it is not as complex as it seems. But it is.
Last month, entirely unexpectedly, I bought myself some freedom. Now, I know, most of the time, we are in fact, free — aren’t we?
Well, yes.
Sort of.
For me, however, it isn’t quite this simple.
I have been brought up by a narcissistic single mother who always got what she wanted, with very few exceptions. People-pleasing is my second nature.
As I grew up, I craved to make my own decisions, yet I couldn’t. My mother would stand behind me and make sure I made a decision — the right one.
As I grew up, I thought it was my job to make my mother happy, to please her, to behave a certain way. I was wrong.
Now, I’m a mother myself. I’m married and no longer dependent, but my mind is.
Everything is a threat to my mother. Especially my husband, because she had to give up control.
The daily phone calls, though, remained.
Sometimes she would call six times a day, even on weekends.
She’s on pension with a people-pleasing husband, but with nothing to do and nowhere to go, so her primary target and daily dose is still ME.
I’ll turn 40 years old next year.
After what I have endured all this time and for so long, my husband looked at me the other day and asked me how long I’d be doing her favours?
I couldn’t answer that.
Moving forward, my mother mentioned for months how she would love to own a dog. A puppy. It would change her life for the better. She would go outside, and she would be active again. Not a bad thought, if only her two cats and my father weren’t there. My mother invited everyone to the conversation.
Friends of hers, my father, my son, and I told her what a massive change a puppy will be in her life. Her whole routine will go out the window. It will be an enormous cut for her and my father. In fact, he was entirely against the idea of owning a puppy. My father was against buying a puppy for as long as my mother asked for one, but one day, he gave in.
If only they weren’t weighed down by debt, accumulated by overspending, and buying loads of toys for our daughter, which my husband and I have firmly said not to do, but as mentioned, my mother does what she wants, and I have allowed it.
My mother cried for days and weeks because she couldn’t afford a dog, but she wished for nothing more. I decided to be completely selfless and buy her the longed-for puppy. A solid 1000,00 € later, my mother couldn’t be happier.
Blissfully, she ordered and ordered some more — toys for the puppy, accessories, and a box for a shameful amount of money, a bed, and everything you’d need to welcome a puppy in.
Three weeks later, tonight, I got the dreaded phone call. I was making dinner when she cried in my ear: Meet me downstairs in five?
I knew something was wrong.
When I met her downstairs, she looked tired out. She’d been crying and kept her dog Lucy tight on the leash. I am not a dog person myself, but I tolerate the puppy and greeted her friendly. My mother poured herself into a river of tears. She didn’t expect it to be this tiring. My father and she were on the brink of ending their marriage, and although I had heard all of this before, I felt angry inside.
Angry for the little puppy, who is just curiously exploring her new world, making friends, and who is supposed to make my mother happy. But she didn’t. My mother came crashing down with the realisation that she was not fit enough, not well enough to care for a puppy.
I looked down at Lucy. I looked in her little brown eyes and knew: With her, I gained freedom. I achieved what I constantly desired.
I bought her the dog because she wanted it and I didn’t think further about it, but then it hit me: look how much LESS TIME she has for me, for the children. Isn’t this wonderful? I could breathe, and I instantly felt happier.
In those three weeks, when my mother was busy with her puppy, she had less and less time for me. She didn’t call as much anymore, and the phone calls lasted only seconds, compared to before. I didn’t have to visit anymore, share my opinion anymore, or hear her complain; I could live my life. I could live my life with my husband and children and my two beloved cats for three weeks in peace, until the thought crept in: if she gives her up, then we start again. I will become her primary focus again, and this time, I can’t let that happen. This time, I need to make it clear to her. My mother has MS; her nervous system is fragile. So, it will be challenging to state the obvious to her, what isn’t so evident to her mind.
Now, you have probably wondered, WHY couldn’t I tell my mother to leave me alone when she bothered me this much?
Because I never did. She used to abuse me mentally and physically, and part of me is still trapped with that thought of receiving the same punishment again. I know, it’s silly to think that way. I’m an adult.
I hope her dog will find a beautiful, new, and loving home. She deserves it.
And I have to keep working on my freedom.
