Motherly Love

I called my mother this morning, simply to make conversation and to ask for her advice on something. My mother always sounds so cheery when you first begin your conversation, showing concern and empathy. Then came the dramatic climax, where she goes from being that caring friend to a controlling sociopath. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother and she has done a lot for me, except for allow me control over my own life. Of course I control my own life, in the sense that I make my own decisions for myself, but my mother mentally tries to manipulate everyone of those choices. "Well I wouldn't have done it that way," "Why don't you just move home to save money." "I'm just gonna keep my mouth shut....but." I wonder if she realizes that the only two of the three children she does this too is her daughters, whom both no longer lived at home by the ages of 19 and 20, while my brother is 22 and happy as a clam living for free buying power boats and going on mexican vacations. I could be doing those things too if I still lived at home, but I cannot put a price on my sanity.

My mothers spite for me comes from a variety of issues, but they can be wrapped up into one extremely long run on sentence. I went to school for biology instead of journalism, turning down the entrance into a decent journalism and mass communications school, I drink and socialize too much, I am not married nor have any desire to be so anytime in the near future, I have no desire to make her a grandmother until she'll probably already be dead, I lack all domestic and motherly instincts that typical women should have, and I'm selfish.

I want to finish my degree. Even though I have been with the same guy off and on for seven years, I still don't feel in my heart that he's Mr. Right, so I refuse to accept a ring until I am sure of it. I don't want to have a baby until I get some sort of a career off the ground. I love biology, and as much as I loved writing, it was a hobby. I live paycheck to paycheck in a beautiful apartment with a stressful job that I am great at. My girlfriends (some of whom I have been friends with since kindergarten) are my backbone, even though they're bitches, they're my bitches! We are twenty three, we do drink, we have a good time, we make memories, we go on road trips and life is fabulous. I wouldn't trade my life for anything and I don't think she understands that. Yes I am disorganized, I lose everything, my shoes are thrown all over the closet, I never pick up after myself and I hate, hate, hate cleaning with a passion, but that is who I am and who I will always be. It might be a mess, but it is MY messy life and as long as I stay confident in my life, everything will be fine.