Being petty and mean

Wow. 10 minutes after she left the room, my mom had to come back and give me a lecture about how messy it is. She can’t quite understand how she, a neat freak, ended up having two children who really don’t care what condition their room is as long as they can navigate from point A to point B without poking their eyes or tripping over things.

One of the reasons I keep my room messy is so that my Mom cannot find my things. It’s a leftover relic from days when I’m pretty sure she started going through my stuff as a teenager. I think all mothers do that, whether they want to admit it or not. It would certainly explain some of the things I know my mom wouldn’t have own otherwise. It’s much harder to replicate a messy room when you know where everything is, than it would be to replicate a clean room. Trust me, I’ve been there.

In a weird, twisted way, this is my revenge on her. I don’t feel like I have control over my life with her around. Or even with my father. I understand they worry, but seriously, move on already, won’t you? You’ve already done enough damage by destroying TWO relationships. I suppose if I ask my mom to arrange my marriage, she’ll be all over herself.

And in case you’re wondering, opening up to her is NOT an option. She wants to hear what she wants to hear, and she really refuses to even try coming from my point of view. Talking to her is often an exercise in futility about my friends. I know she’s proud of me, but at the same time she’s also ashamed. She expects me to be something I don’t want to be.

The sad thing is, I understand where she comes from. She has no real friends to speak of, and her behaviour is highly regulated by what she thinks my dad will or will not approve. She’s disappointed by the choices she’s made in life and how they’ve turned out; at 25, I’m still living in the house instead of being happily married to someone and bearing grandchildren for her. At 22, my brother is still leeching off them, and planning to get married to a Sabah girl my parents have never met.

At the end of the day, I think the issue is trust. I cannot trust my mother not to hurt me again, and she cannot trust her daughter to follow her.