My mother expected me to go from virgin to married with no guidance, support, advice, understanding, talk.............. it was shameful to date a boy but yet she did expect me to get married and I disappointed her that I didn't. The lack of communication was staggering but she doesn't see it. She just looks at me and sees how I embarrassed her. All of her siblings children got married.
So much of this thread resonates but this in particular. I was forbidden from having boyfriends and I remember seeing other friends share those experiences with their mothers whereas I went to great lengths keep the two teenage relations I had, completely hidden. Of course, I was expected to settle down and have a respectful marriage and I did do that to an extent. I got married but never had children and this is a huge source of embarrassment to both my parents. I did try to include her in my wedding plans, let her come dress shopping which was fine but then when I mentioned buying underwear to go under the dress, she huffed and puffed about how clearly all I could think of was the wedding night and she had not raised me to be a slut, before storming off home.
She (or rather they, as my dad was exactly the same and I can’t allow my mum to carry all the blame here) wasn’t a bad mum and probably at the tame end of some of situations described here but she was simply emotionally unavailable. When I was badly bullied and crying in the mornings, scared to go to school, I was told to toughen up and “it’s no wonder they pick on you”. I learned to mask every emotion; if I was happy, smiling and laughing, I’d be mocked with an over-exaggerated big idiotic, slack-jawed grin and told I was embarrassing them. If I cried, I was a snivelling little cry-baby. So I was just neutral about everything from a very young age and that is a habit I struggle to break, even now in my 40s. I am told I am a closed book and I have been criticised at work for my “cold” stance and inability to give sincere sounding positive feedback. In many ways I’m happy that I never had children as I’d be terrified of repeating the cycle due to these learned behaviours. On the other hand though, I know I can let me guard down and my completely and unashamedly me with a few people – my DH and my best friend – so maybe it would have been ok.
Looking back, I find it weird that my mum never knew, or cared enough to learn, any of my friends’ names. They were just other children who meant nothing to her. Similarly, she used to get annoyed if I mentioned a teacher by name. If I said, “Mr Brown says that I should think carefully about next year’s modules”, she would snap back, “who in god’s name is Mr Brown? I can’t be expected to remember all of this. Just call them my English teacher, my maths teacher…” It’s not quite the same as not bothering to learn the names of my friends but it did upset me, particularly in the case of Mr Brown who had been my English teacher for 4 years and had really nurtured my passion for the subject. In contrast, I’d go to friends’ houses where the conversation around the dinner table was what Mr Brown, or Mrs Smith said today and the parents would respond by asking things like “how did x react to that?” where x would be another class member, not a close friend or known through parenting or neighbourhood circles but somehow they knew of that person’s existence anyway. I attended a huge school and there were never enough slots for parents to meet with teachers on parents’ night. Our teachers would often say that they were targeting parents whom they really wanted to speak to (i.e if the child was struggling) and other slots would be for parents who really really wanted to speak to them but those in the middle ground should not take up timeslots. I used to lie every year. I told my teachers that mum was very keen to talk to them and I told mum that the teachers wanted to talk to her. The reality was that I wanted to her to see and understand this big chunk of my life, hear the teachers tell her I was a good student and hopefully spark some praise or at least interest. She used to complain every time though about giving up her evening for it. One teacher, the aforementioned amazing Mr Brown, got wind of what I was doing and made sure she was always on his list after that. He also encouraged me to go to university. My parents didn’t think it was for the likes of me but he told me I had the ability and that I needed the experience of getting away from home.
As an adult, there is no interest in my life. I have hobbies, interests and passions which are never spoken about. There’s no point. Once my mum realised I wasn’t growing into a carbon copy of her, any interest she did have was completely dismissed. I actually have a really accomplished career but she has no idea. I’d love to have confided in her about my fertility journey but that is just not our relationship. After all these years it still upsets me when I see and hear about friends having close relationships with their mums – the spa visits, afternoon teas, giggly nights over a bottle of wine… We do see each other regularly but our relationship feels very transactional. I’ve tried testing the waters by starting to tell her about something I’ve done recently but she’ll just talk right over me saying it sounds boring. On the other hand, she’ll wax lyrical about my amazing cousin (my version of “Tom” mentioned upthread) as well as her friends’ adult children. I know it sounds selfish but I just wish someone would, just once, boast about me.