I know she’s just worried about me, but I don’t
hope she worries because then I end up having to let her rest assured. When I ended up taking a long time to reassure her, it meant I wasn’t getting the support I was looking for in the first place.
“For this exact reason, I’m not going to tell Mom anything anymore,” my friend replied to my voicemail. “Otherwise, you end up carrying the thoughts, fears, and expectations of two people. And, until you get to a place where you can’t get those people on board (which may never happen, we listen to our loved ones! ), it’s best to assess when and what information you provided her.”
I know my friend is right – fix this The only way is to set some kind of bounds. Later that day, when I got back from the gym, I called my mom and told her I thought it would be best to stop talking about the man I was dating until something concrete happened because I felt like I wasn’t going to let it go. She is disappointed.
I forgot they were here don’t know you fuck What are you talking about setting boundaries. “Oh, I always say the wrong thing,” she said.
I told her I wouldn’t because
feeling angry times, then she took a long sigh and said, “I just want you to be happy.” Then I realized: this is the problem. Moms tend to love us more than we love ourselves. They literally gave us their bodies to stretch their skin until it ripped and their feet were too swollen to put on their shoes. They prioritize our work and ignore emails from people they’d like to do something for. They talk to their friends about us at parties like we are the funniest thing on earth. They made us eat toast without burn, made us eat the sticky bits on the edge of the pie, lent us the clothes they still wore, they kept pushing us to be better because they thought we could do anything matter. They worry about our happiness because they often want us to be more than we do. The problem is, in worry, they often make us feel worse.