Mother Do You Love Me

Mother Do You Love Me          

How it was:

I grew up in a big family - my two brothers, my sister, my parents, and myself.  My oldest brother is twelve years older than me, my other brother is five years older than me and my sister is two years older than me but three years ahead of me in school.  My first home that I lived in was a two bedroom apartment with all six of us.  To many people, that may seem like a tight squeeze but I had some of my best memories at that house.  My dad always worked at night so during the day he and I would always spend the day together.  We would watch Barney, Andy Griffith Show, and then some cooking show afterwards. 

When I was about the age of four we moved into a three bedroom duplex.  I loved that house because the entire white, wooden, front porch was my play room.  It felt like a fairy tale, that room was my kingdom, and I had control over all of it.  My Barbie’s were everywhere and I would just play in the porch for hours on end.  In the winter, the wooden floors would get chilly on my feet but I didn’t really care I insisted on still playing in that cold porch with the freezing wooden floors.

Then when I was six we moved into the house that we live now. The first day we moved into that house I remember being afraid to walk on our living room carpet because it was as white as snow and I didn’t want to ruin it.  The funny thing about that was when we first moved in we were not allowed to eat or drink in our living room, but as time passed that rule tarnished and so did the whiteness of our carpet.  During my five years that I lived at home, before I went to school my life revolved around you, Mom.  I normally spent a good majority of my day with you.

When I grew up, you were the person, I idolized and yet always hated at the same time. You have short, golden, wheat colored hair, a mixture of blue green eyes, you’re about five feet five inches, a little over weight and people say I look like you.  They say I have your butt chin, gumdrop nose, round face shape, your golden, wheat, hair color, and your blue green eyes.  As I was growing up, I always looked up to you and you were one of my best friends.  But as the years went on, our relationship grew further and further apart. 

How it is:

I’m the youngest child of us four and very different from the rest.  My oldest brother didn’t find out that he was graduating until the week before graduation, and on graduation, his girlfriend was about three months pregnant.  My other brother didn’t graduate on time and had to go to summer school.  My sister was what is known as a “super senior”.  Then there’s me, I’m in the top 21% of my class with a cumulative GPA of 3.511 and was offered an $8000 scholarship per year at Mount Mary. I’m planning to graduate from Mount Mary with a bachelor’s degree in fashion and business.  I feel that each day should be an educational experience, and if not, then it’s a day wasted.  Yet anything that I do isn’t good enough for you.

“You can hate me a hundred dollars less now.  Is that why you have hated me for so long because of the money I owed you?”

You say all this to me in a matter of a few seconds as you just barged into my blue and green Hawaiian themed bedroom. I am unsure of what to say in response to that.  About forty five minutes later, as you still are standing in my dark room with me, I am paying little attention to what you have to say and just wanting you to leave. I was trying to fill out my college application for Mount Mary and watch Say Yes to the Dress before you barged in unexpectedly,

“You just think your better than everybody else.”

You were sort of right about that statement.  I never felt like I fit in with the rest of my siblings, and I’ve said to people that you have yelled  at me for that, and yet, they side with me and agree with the fact that maybe I am better than the rest of you. 

You tell me how badly I’ve hurt you and our relationship’s downfall is entirely my fault.  You don’t even let me get a word in, and you just keep putting words in my mouth.  Then when you finally shut the fuck up I try to say something and you don’t even listen to me.  I sit there helplessly wondering to myself if she isn’t going to listen to me then why in the hell should I listen to her. 

You seem astounded by the fact when I said, “It doesn’t really bother me that our relationship has degenerated.  It just sucks but it’s been like this for a while and I’m use to it.  We both know that we will just continue to tip toe around each other like usual.  Mom, I’ve given up and if I just continue to stop talking to you it won’t make things worse because I won’t say anything new for you to get mad at me for.” 

Then in return you get pissed and respond, “Well that’s just great Britt like that’s going to make anything better.  Well I have given up too.” 

At this point it feels like I’ve been shot.  I wasn’t really all that surprised because it had felt like you had already given up on me.  That was the most hurtful thing that had happened to me, being told by my own mother that she had given up on me.  It hurt even more than when you weren’t there for me when my boyfriend and I, of three years, had broken up.  It hurt even more than when I had told you that I had been accepted to college and in the most monotone voice I ever heard you replied with, “Congratulations.”  I found it pretty pathetic that my ex boyfriend was more excited for me that I was accepted into college than my own mother.  That was a huge milestone in my life and that’s how I’m always going to remember your responses to it, “Congratulations”.  When I say goodnight to dad every night, I give him a hug and a kiss and say I love you to him.  But to you I say, “Night mom.”  To say I love you to you has become like the pledge, I do it because I’m suppose to.

You don’t even treat Kim, my best friend of fourteen years like family.  I know that I can walk into Kim’s house any time I feel like without Kim even needing to be there and that would be perfectly fine.  Her family treats me like a daughter.  They have taken me on family vacations, to Six Flags, make special vegetarian dinners, and it doesn’t even phase them.  I walk into her house, and it feels like home to me because her parents automatically welcome me into their house and always say hello to me and offer me rides.  They make jokes with me and accept me as if I’m one of their daughters.  Our family - I don’t even remember the last time we went on a family vacation together I was never able to bring a friend with on vacation.  You hate having to make special vegetarian meals for me and just complain about it.  You get mad at me when I ask for ANYTHING even though you’re my mother.  Kim could never come into our house without me being there, that would just be awkward for her.  You aren’t even friendly towards her when she comes into our house.  You don’t even say hello, but Dad does.   

It’s a chore for you to be my mother.  Well I just want you to know it’s a chore for me to be your daughter and I hate it.  I hate it when I have to come home dealing with our relationship and you every day because it’s always the same damn thing. It never changes.  It is really hard for me to call you mom because a mom isn’t supposed to say horrible things or treat their child the way that you have me.  When I mention you to anybody I don’t refer to you as Mom but just as Lisa Schmidt.

We all work at Hartford McDonald’s, together as a family.  Dad, Jamie, and Allen are all my bosses; you do the book keeping. I plan to become a manager after graduation.  People are surprised to hear me explain how much of a bitch you are, because you put on your mask of niceness towards everyone else that we work with at McDonald’s.  I can’t even believe that I was told this by one of my good friends.  While we were driving one night, somehow he got on the topic of you, and he told me that you had said to him, “I feel sorry for anyone who is forced to date her because she is such a fucking bitch.” When he told me that, I didn’t even know what to say.  I guess I wasn’t really shocked that you’d say that, I just couldn’t believe that you’d say that to someone that I’m good friends with and now dating.  I know he wasn’t forced to date me and doesn’t think I’m a bitch.   

How it will be:

I’ve decided that I want to move out in June, and as I sit here writing this, I have yet to tell you that.  Most of all I hate knowing the fact that you get the satisfaction that I need you financially. 

I told Jamie that I was planning on moving out and she said, “I know that you hate living here Britt, but do you really think it is worth having to struggle long term finically because of her?”

I said, “Jamie I come home and cry every night.  You have know idea how much I hate living here, its like hell.  I know I’ll be broke and it is going to be rough and I most likely won’t have money for food but I’d rather not be able to eat than live here with her.”

Jamie in responded said, “Well Britt if that is truly how you feel than maybe it is better for you if you do move out.” 

You’re like a fucking disease, your toxic and your attitude just spreads and brings everyone else down.  I never want to grow up like you.  You say I’m so bad but I’m nothing fucking like you.  I never got pregnant at sixteen like you, I was never addicted to drugs such as pot, and I actually have never and will never smoke cigarettes, but you do and try to keep it a secret from me.  Good fucking joke!  Lisa Schmidt, I’ve known that you smoked since I was little so all that soda and perfume are pointless for you to use. I know, and they don’t even cover up that disgusting scent of cigarettes that you always wear.  I never want to work two jobs and wake up every morning hating my jobs and know that they have little affect on this world, like you.

I do plan to move out this summer, I don’t want to be in a place where I’m not wanted, and I won’t need you in my life.  You have no idea how scary it is to know in four short months I will be, hopefully, living on my own.  I didn’t plan to be moving out after graduation, it was never a part of the plan I had set for myself.  But I guess incidents happen that alter our life plan.  What makes me stronger is how well I’m able to adapt to the alteration to the original plan.  I’m going to do something with my life by going to college and making a difference in the world and have a fulfilling career.  Ten years from now, being twenty eight years old, I see myself being successful in my career, dealing with business and fashion, and hopefully owning my own clothing store.  I hope to be married, have two children and owning a beautiful house where my happy family, and I will live. 

When I become a mother, I want to be there for my children, for them to be able to look up to me as a role model, and have open lines of communication with them.  I plan to make breakfast and dinner almost every morning and night at my house.  I will never miss any of my children’s sporting events, unlike you.  You only made it to one of my cross country meets in the four years I was involved in the sport, and seemed pissed off and wanted to leave my meet before you even got there.  During that time period, you were having problems with your sister, but honestly suck it up, we all have our problems.  You don’t need to drag the rest of the world down with you.  I never want my children to have the feeling towards me as a mother as I do for you.

I just hope you know that you did this to yourself, and I will never again look up to you as a role model.  Our relationship is way too damaged to try and fix, and frankly I don’t even want to try to either.  I look to you as a person I never want to be like in my life.  You’re not a mother to me because a mother doesn’t do to their daughter what you have done to me.  You have broken me down; the little light in me has dimmed out to nothing.  But you were right about one thing, I walk around our house seeming like I’m better than the rest and that is only because I will be more successful and never intend on following in your footsteps.

This is me telling you I’m done with you and our relationship. I am going to finally be free of you.  I hope that once I have moved out that the little light in me can once again shine and that I can rise above you.  I will no longer try to do everything in my power to make you happy.  I’m going to start looking out for me and living my life for myself.