It's a long time since…
All our most offensive hurts are arising from childhood. Complexes originated from hurts come from the same place. I am from a generation of children, who were born in the USSR, so I’m probably worth of taking into account the influence on the upbringing of a child of socialist ideals and party dogmas. Our "superpower" was in a state of "cold war" with everything that was included in the concept - civilized relations, probably for many Soviet citizens, the concept of "coolness " in families, was usual and normal phenomenon. You raised small citizens, who at any time could get up from their desks and ready to protect the Motherland, to fulfill and exceed all “the five-year plans” combined together. You hurt us with words and sometimes objects, much harder, for torn jackets, bad marks, criticized and devalued our actions publicly, you blamed us with a “piece of bread” that was earned by hard work solely for us. Perhaps you were raised like this and otherwise there couldn't be...
Having written the first paragraph, I catch myself thinking that I am again looking for excuses, struggling with the feeling of guilt raised in my head, soul, heart by my dearest person, instead of just howling: "- Mom !!! You, made me really, really hurt once again! "
"- MOM! -On May 14th , I will turn 45. Hear me today, in March," while I’m still 44
"- Mom, when I was four and a half years old, my brother was born, as time had shown - he was more my son than yours, ..beginning from four and a half years, my duties included washing diapers, feeding, changing clothes, upbringing - (you haven’t got enough time to spend with us, you’ve been running to earn money.) You joked that we grew up like a “feather grass road”, becoming independent very early, but I wasn’t funny ... At age six, I peeled potatoes, having cut off the peel, I heard from my father: - You’ve learned to paint your nails, but can’t peel the potatoes properly!... and you told, that I’m an "armless" ... I was only six!!!
Today, my son is six and if he came up a thought to peel potatoes, I would tell him - "THANK YOU, SON! I AM PROUD TO KNOW YOU ARE SO GROUN UP AND CARING FOR ME. YOU HELP IS VERY PRECIOUS TO ME!!!" - I would not be concerned about the thickness of this damned skin at the most unharvest year - I just have other values! Mom, I was really hurt by your perception of me, your daughter, through the lens of opinions of absolutely strangers - if neighbors, teachers, extended family said that I did good and “talented in everything” - you believed. It hurts that you didn’t know about it yourself ... You know mom, and in fact dad was always honest with us, he didn’t tell us, what difficulty he had doing that, the man has got on with his life( thank God, and now he is alive), he didn’t give anything, he didn’t demand anything - that is why we didn’t expect anything from him ..
All children in childhood have the same authority - their parents. I didn’t know that “authorities” could be wrong, mistaken, be cruel - I just believed ... I had to prove to you, mom, with excellent marks, high sports achievements, participation in amateur performances, social workloads in school, that I deserve your love that there was a reason you have to "live with our father so that we can grow up in full family," although you didn’t leave him when we grew up and began to live separately. You, mom, was annoyed by my lack of sleep, because of reading Russian classics at night, because at half past five in the morning I didn’t take a very brisk step "to rush to fight the harvest," that a ten-year-old child should not carry a bag in which three or four buckets of root crops, and even more so the girl, who managed to become a mother after that,-this was not discussed at all.
Having matured a bit, mom, I didn’t have enough of you at all as a loved one person, as a mom-friend. In the Soviet Union - sex didn’t exist, therefore, "from the cradle", I heard from you that sex is nothing but dirt and God forbid to think about such things as femininity or even worse - sexuality. You, mom, still trying to stab me, that sometimes I sit, stooping, never asking: “Why, actually?”. When I had some outlines of the female breast, Mom, I hid my femininity, stooping. When at the age of fifteen my classmate gave birth - I once again was repeated a succinct definition of the representatives of the oldest profession. Why?
Simply because theoretically and in my case, it could happen ... I rebelled, proving to everyone that my mom can be proud of me, can love me - I really didn’t have enough of you, mom, your warmth, I only needed that you pressed me to your chest and said that you love me, believe in me, are proud of me - and I still lack this... The warmest thing is to mention in conversation with my dad that they have made beautiful children - and this is also, mom, only your merit ... You decided for me, Mom, where I should study and what profession to choose and, what the hell, you paid for my getting in to university three thousand Soviet rubles to my dad’s friends. Though you know, mom, that your daughter could have got it on her own, thank you, probably this is more reliable, but then for many years I’ve heard that for all of that you could buy yourself another “closet” in the living room (what the hell do you need the second “closet” ? – to hurt me more? ..).
After that, I was first married (in my heart of hearts I realized that it would not be for long) - I didn’t want to return to the parental house anymore. You did not want to hear and see me for half a year, mom, because it was my decision, even if such an idiotic one, but mine. You’ve been always interested in the investigation, Mom, and you’ve never been interested in the reasons. I think it's wrong that I helped, took care of, dragged your son on me, because you conveniently just decided that I just have to do it. Men’s right to make independent decisions, failure, right to choose basically cannot be taken away, but you should know better! - this is just your right ... And then I had one more marriage and one more divorce - and again you didn’t want to hear me for half a year ... mom ... And now, mom, I have everything in my life I’ve never had.
And don’t be angry, Mom, that having given birth to my son, I stopped caring for yours. I care about your health just the same, I love you just the same, but eleven years ago I had a real family, relatives, loved ones, my dear men, who became the center of the universe for me, and I the same for them. Now I have my own separate galaxy, Mom, it is still difficult for you to accept it, and you are trying in a rude manner to recall me the duty of staying your "obedient pupil", you are irritating, you had me going till the poor part, you are calling on the sense of guilty ... Sorry Mom, I'm an adult self-sufficient woman who has already have her own life, and you have your own role there - you are just not in the center anymore ... please accept this ... mom
Probably, every person has the right to say all the "children's offensive hurts", there is a right to be heard, not everyone uses this opportunity. For years we swallow deeper and deeper our troubles, ashamed of them ... and in a circle like this... This affects our daily life, our relationships with our loved ones, our children. We need to find the strength and courage to talk about what keeps us from being happy. The main knowledge that the child should take with from the parental home - the luckiest person – it is only natural!