19 June 2012
I love when people disprove my "negative" outlook.
Did I really love it then? Yes, because I was finally allowing myself not to be miss-mary-sunshine all the time. I was allowing myself to have feelings contrary to my family's expectations of my perennially happy and strong function. This was a time when I began to own my grief and when I became determined to move through it without hurting myself anymore. It was hard on my family of origin; because I stopped accepting their comments about my mistakes as a parent, about their want for absolution for not helping her when she was suffering, and their continued comments about how they disapproved of how she lived her life.
No mother needs those kinds of comments, no matter how small and no matter how much another person wants to say them. We already experience frequent - sometimes constant - hatred against ourselves. We hear a song that reminds us of them. We see a baby who looks like they looked. We already remember when we were imperfect parents: and we know how horrible this is, so most of us don't say "Yeah, know what? Remember that time you could have NOT been an asshole to my kid? Remember that time when you knew she needed help and your solution was to scold her? Remember when you didn't help?" So, yep. I'm negative sometimes. I own it. It's okay for me not to be perfect.