Its Time to Take off Those Silly Masks

Sometime long ago, your childhood disappeared before it started.   That is what you say anyway.

Something about your father didn't love your mother, he was in love with someone else, had a kid by them, and somehow ended up with your mother.  And that's how you came along, the product of a loveless marriage.

Then the story goes that your mother put all her hopes and dreams in you.  Wouldn't let you breathe.  And I can see how there is a germ of truth in that.  You mother is more concerned about how something looks to others, than what it means to herself or her family.  A tortured prisoner to be sure.  It would have been interesting to see that glint in your eyes when you rebelled against her before you put the mask back on.

But here is where it gets interesting.  For in your mind, you were put in the unenviable position as a child of protecting your mother from the wrath of your father.   And each one of your parents would blame you for taking sides in their marital conflict.  An erstwhile childhood mediator in a dispute well beyond her years.

But see I'm into seeing things in their opposites these days.  Or at least exploring them.  And in my mind the self styled "helpless" victim is  really exerting a degree of control over the situation--whether she wants to admit it or not.   Even if we pay close attention to your own narrative, you were in control.  You "never had a childhood"=you were an adult.  You were the "unwilling mediator" or "protector"=the puppet master controlling the strings.   Let's further assume that you were more than
the intellectual equal of the combined force of your parents.  And your parents were, after all, weak, shallow and petty compared to the you.  Surely, a highly intelligent child could step in to get what she wants, sort of anyway.

But then comes the tricky part, and I may be wrong about this, but here is my intuition,  what happens if the fantasy that every child has of controlling the ostensibly older and more powerful parents becomes true and manifested in reality?  The child could be afraid of the power, and abdicate the throne, so to speak.   Or something more oblique perhaps.  For the other part of your narrative, that you repeat like a mantra is that you never absolutely never never never under any circumstances do anything for yourself.  I'm exaggerating here, but I have poetic licence and this is my blog, so there.  You are only happy when you do things for other people and are incapable of finding happiness in doing anything for yourself.   Blah blah blah. 

Now Mother Teresa may have lived that mantra, but she never would have said that.  By saying it, it becomes something different.   You are either Mother Teresa or you are not.  But in my world if you say you are selfless, you are something else.  I'll leave that for you to decide what that something else is.

Had I wanted someone who told me all the time that she cared for me and how she was happy only doing things for other people, I would have asked.  I really would have.  But I really wanted something different.  And its time to take off those silly masks anyway.