As I was sitting in my car, on the way to school, with my mother
behind the wheel, I questioned her. My usual practice, questioning,
and questioning, without any argument back, just some words about how
it was not my place to disrespect her, how she is the one who makes the
rules for me, while I am a part of her family. 'Then let me out of
this family, you know I will break your rules, so just let me out.'
She just kept driving. I told her how I disagreed with her way of
life, and how she should not be allowed to dictate my behavior, and
tell me that my own beliefs of right and wrong were any less valid
than her own. She kept driving. I told her how my own beliefs were
growing stronger with each passing year, and hers were fading away
into darkness, like the sunset fades to black. I stepped out of the
car, and walked away, to school, to another hell.
I have never loved my mother. Now you may think this to be some sick
and twisted statement, which cannot possibly be true, and more of an
angst induced thought from an out of control adolescent, but its not.
I have never loved my mother, though I have thanked her for all the
work she has done in bringing me up, and giving me the best life
possible. I have tried for so long to be the best son I could be for
her, trying to say what she wanted to hear, and do what she wanted me
to do; is this love?
My mother has been someone I have disagreed with from the start. I
have not agreed with her way of life, although accepted it, and tried
to allow myself to become a part of it, feeling like I owed her this,
for all the years she put into my upbringing. However, I do not
believe, and may never believe, that she is correct, and when I try to allow
myself to practice my own lifestyle within our family, I expect the
same amount of respect towards my beliefs as I gave her beliefs. Why
not, is it not fair for her to accept me for who I am as I accept her
for who she is?
She does not accept me for what I am, and have always been. For this
reason, I do not love her. I would be fine loving someone who I do not
agree with, and have done so on more than a few occasions, but the
idea that I am forced to love her, it scares me, it scares me almost
as much as death itself. I will not love her until I feel it, and
until then, she is just an acquaintance, who chooses to do things for
me, as she loves me, even if the love is unrequited.
But fuck, you all think I’m some sick and crazy bastard for even
admitting to this belief, so I will hide from you, the belief which has
shaken my family to its core. But the idea that a mother should be
loved, and loved no matter what, is absurd. Why, then, do we not love
everyone, no matter what? What, you say, an abusive parent does not
deserve love? Ok, so then we can take away love? So if a parent
starts out with love, and that love is conditional, is that true about
the rest of the world? Should we love every person in the world
equally, who has not done anything to harm us? Should I do everything
in my power to help those starving infants in Africa, because I love
them? No. Love is not something which can be taken away, it is
something which must be earned. It is something which must be earned by
anyone and everyone. We must force ourselves to realize we do not
have to become slaves to a parent because of who they are. We must
thank them, if they have done a good job, but not love them. Love is
not something which you can purchase with your time, it is something
which you must acquire through your actions all the time.