Why I hate Mother’s Day
This attempts to be something of a personal explanation of why I hate Mother’s Day. I can completely get why some, maybe even most people love Mother’s Day. Buying your lovely mother a big bunch of pink flowers, getting her favourite chocolates, a bottle of wine… taking her out for a Spring time lunch. Enjoying chatter together either daughter and mother or son and mother. Very picturesque. I imagine.
But I want you to remember that not all mothers are deserving. Sure, some of you don’t have your mums around any more and absolutely fantastic mums they were to you too. Or perhaps you didn’t have a mum at all and really wished you had even had a brief time experiencing the glory that is motherliness.
Personally having been brought up in a religious cult with a mother who inflicted her own insecurities upon her only daughter, an eating disorder riddled, appearance obsessed and competitive and jealous two faced woman who I had the absolute horror of living with for the first 18 years of my life, I won’t be celebrating my mother this mother’s day or having anything to do with her.
That’s before she chose to become entirely homophobic over my sexuality, because apparently lesbians are fine as long as it’s not her daughter, and gay men are always acceptable because they’re more socially acceptable. Or fashionable. Or look good in pants. Or something.
And of course not forgetting the whole incident of trying to take my child away. Goodness knows what she was hoping to achieve there, that perhaps our government would grant her custody of my (much loved and very well looked after, wanting for absolutely nothing) son, for her to also raise in a religious cult, denying HIM friends, birthdays, Christmases, Easter, Halloween and pretty much anything enjoyable in life until he finally escapes her clutches at 18?
No, I don’t think they would do that.
This all sounds very bitter and I apologise. I guess I am bitter. Why don’t I have a mum who is awesome and loving and deserves to be treated on Mother’s Day? Do I not deserve a lovely mum? Maybe not. I don’t know any more.
If you have a fantastic mother, good for you. I actually envy you. If you had a great mum and don’t any more, I am sorry. If you never had a mum and wish you’d had one… I can empathise. I wish I’d had one too.
Note: this is meant to be something of an explanation, I am not pleading for any kind of sympathy. She’s my past, not my future.