Freedom To Grow

By:Mary Smith
Growing up, I had thought that all parents would terrify, and forbid their kids to do normal activities. Things like, listening to music other than what the parent liked. Sleep when we were tired; eat until we were full.
My parents were not cruel openly, but minor infractions caused 'creative' punishments. Failure to complete the dishes in a specified amount of time resulted in standing in the center of the kitchen until the next day. Listening to any other music than approved classical was grounds for being locked out of the house for 24 hours. Not finishing the food on your plate meant that was all you got for the next three meals.
I thought this was normal, I was never encouraged to spend time with friends, or to invite friends over to the house, so did not see comparisons, beyond school. I was kept isolated, so that I would not learn that mother was mentally ill. Father did not care as long as she was happy.
By the time I had my first child, various friends had said things that made me question my mother's method of parenting. I took several parenting classes, so I would know how to be a good parent. During the classes I learned just how mentally ill mother was.
After my first child was born, Mother's reaction was scary to say the least. She raved at how beautiful her grandbaby was, and would tell her even at a few weeks old that I was a bad mommy and she could come live with grandma any time.
I put my foot down and told mother that if she continued I would have to refuse to allow her to see her grandchild. After calling me several uncomplimentary names, she agreed not to tell the baby things like that. I suspected on and off when my children would visit that she would treat them as she treated us growing up.
One day my mother came to visit in the middle of a move, she walked in the house, complained because I hadn't finished unpacking, told the children that she would get them when social services took them away from me. I told her then flat out that I did not want to see her again, and would not allow the children any contact with her.
She died sometime later, and even then I did not allow the children to see her until the funeral. I still talk to my father on a once a month basis, but never for more than a few minutes, more of a I am still alive are you, call.
I freed myself that day when I told mother that I wouldn't allow the children to see her. I finally quit trying to do things her way, and to see that she needed to be in total control of everyone around her. I have since learned to rely upon myself and lean on my husband when I need extra support. I discovered things about myself that I had never known. It has been a journey of discovery, and I like the person I have become.

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