I am in love with my 16 year old self. I want to be as intuitive and in-touch with my emotions as I was then. I feel then I wouldn’t have nearly the amount of stress on myself that I do now. Here’s the problem: I grew up. I’m living this whole adult life now that’s chock full of responsibility left and right.
Love Your Mother
Talking to my mother this morning broke my heart. Now I just need to figure out why.
In her words, she is fed up with her friends. She told me that she feels all used up. In my eyes, she is the picture of generosity. All of my life I have forgiven all of her faults for this one virtue that she shoulders so valiantly. Part of me feels that she has given enouh for 30 people in one lifetime- and beleive me when I say that I understand her frustraton with lost causes. Truly, I do. But to hear her so discouraged, so enraged … It broke my heart. And I don’t know if it’s because I feel so much empathy for her or because I pity her. Or perhaps it is merely that I am afraid for her. I don’t want her to become bitter. But even as she was ranting, she said herself she felt “harsh”. Even still she feels guilty for not wanting to be more generous. Maybe I am not heartbroken. Maybe I am enraged. She shouldn’t feel that way. She shouldn’t feel guilty for not wanting to be taken advantage of – and that’s what is happening. realistically if you look at it, that’s all that’s ever come of her generousity. Yet, even as I type that I know it is not true. I know somewhere in the deepest part of me that there is a reward for this behavior. I truly and deeply believe that my moher has a tiny part of heaven waiting for her despite all the crimes she has committed in her lifetime, I believe that the acts of kindness will outweigh them. I empathize with her because I know that these little acts of kindness we commit are worth something and so I too feel guilty when I decide to hold myself back, to preserve my heart and shut people out. It is more than a fear of being hurt. I’m not afraid of it any longer, I have come to expect it. And the fact that she and I have given selfishly despite that expectation has to mean something. Yet, I worry because on the one hand I don’t want to become her. I don’t want to be used up before I hit fifty because I’ve given bits of me away to people all of my life and have nothing to show for it. And really, what does she have? Me. She told me she has me. Just typing it is making me tear up. I feel that I don’t deserve it. And I know its true and I’m furious because there are so many other people who should feel the same way that I do right now and they aren’t. I bet Ronata or Delores are not sitting around thanking God for her presence in their life as I am. And they ought to! She’s made similar sacrifices for them that she has for me and they are not her children! Or for that matter Bill! Does he realize what she’s doing for him? What she and Doug both have given to him? I don’t think so. And I realize that I was once in the same situation that he was, ignorant and selfishly blind. And I can only hope and pray that some day he’ll mature as I did enough to see her generousity.
I should call her and tell her not feel guilty for making the responsible decision; to quit enabling the people around her, to quit giving more of herself than she has. But how can I reassure her when I fear the same thing she does?
