Mom. Please stop mothering me

My mother came over for a one week visit so I’ve been sleeping on my Fuff chair and Klik Klak for several nights now. The morning feels rough and unshaven. Stock market is free falling and I had to refuse a few social calls which overall, makes me grumpy. But the nagging is what makes work more pleasant than home.

It was the change over the year which transformed our interaction. I can read my mother like an open book and she feels like a fountain of negativity. Her mind is trapped in an ever ending cycle of worrying between self sacrifice, traditional values and money. Some of them from the society she was born and some of them from her marriage to my dad.

I tried to change her point of view, to make her see how pointless these pursuits are and why she needs something else, but the effort usually gets interrupted by the criticisms she expressed at the way I arranged my furniture, or how I left my workshop in disarray and my apparent lack of social life.

Nothing is ever good enough. I had to stand my ground several times in an attempt to stop her incessant questioning. Questions that criticize my decision, questions that demand my attention and questions that probe my secrets.

Living with parents is supposed to better financially as you share resources and support, but now that I’ve been independent for a decade, I am glad that I left my parents when I did. The benefit of growing up without their influence far out weights the benefits of home made meals and free rent.

Mom. Even though you did it unconsciously, I can’t help you if you direct your negativities towards me. I wish that you can step out of the role of my mom and find yourself.