A while ago I bought a relatively cheap black bodycon cami dress to go clubbing, I liked it alot and was excited to wear it. Yesterday while dressing up to go clubbing, my mother said with that dress I could end up working in a brothel and that I shouldn’t be a slut and have sex with anyone that night. I didn’t know how to react, so I let it go. Later that night while I was on my way to the club she texted me to have fun in my ‘slutty’ dress, that the dress was cheap for a reason and that she hopes I won’t be acting as cheap.
This is but one of many encounters I’ve had like this but this was the most recent and sums up a lot of the behavior I’ve dealt with. I am a single woman in my early twenties. My father passed away very recently, so I’m in mourning at my home. People are in and out, and during one visit, I mentioned that I wish I could change my shirt since it was ratty, but couldn’t do so at the time. Presumably joking, a female friend said that I should worry about that because people here are looking me over to see if I’m marriage material. This may have been said in jest, but there’s a definite, unfortunate truth to it. I had to field a fun comment from a relative, “You’re going to get married and have a man take care of you, but your mother is all alone now so you need to take care of her.” I’m so glad that I apparently am going to get married asap and a man will make all my problems go away.
My mum wasn’t happy when I told her I had bought two shirts from the men’s section and asked if I wanted to “become a lesbian now”.
I recently explained to my mother what “mansplaining” is. She told me a story of how she’d contacted a piano tuner to come to my parent’s home to tune her piano. She said that after she had spoken with him about him coming to service the piano, he then asked her to put him on the phone with her husband so he could give the piano tuner directions to their home. To this man’s credit, he was very embarrassed and apologetic when she responded with shock that he didn’t think she knew where her house was.
Today, I saw I had a new message request on FB. It was some babyfaced little prick, who had simply said “Fat bitch”, and apparently blocked me afterward as I was unable to view his profile. Like any reasonable person, I first tried to report the message. But for various idiotic reasons, the form wasn’t working no matter what I tried. After a while, I decided I’d revisit the report later. But then, I changed my mind. I was going to find this brat’s mother, father, anyone who gave a shit, and tell them what he got up to online. I’ve just spent two hours looking up this kid, including making a different Facebook account to check out his details. I know his town of birth, town of residence, high school, principal’s name, brother’s name, his favourite passtimes, even his favourite breed of dog and apparently the only angle he is able to take selfies from. I know. That was nuts. But I’m sure all of you can understand the compulsion to try and actually do something, when some kid thinks they’re such hot shit that they can come into your messages and ruin your day. What I’m posting about in particular is, when my mother came home and I explained what I’d been doing all day, she immediately went on the defense for this kid. Not once in my life has she ever taken my side when it comes to issues like this. Not when my now-ex’s older sister threatened to kill me, when she would glare at me endlessly whenever he was out of the room, and ended up giving me nightmares. Not when the single creepiest kid you could imagine wouldn’t leave me alone at school, and I was forced to change my identity online. Not when I was in primary school and was abandoned by my only friends at the time, who suddenly turned around and started bullying me as soon as a pretty boy started doing it. Not once. The only time she’s tried anything different was when I finally admitted to her I’d been raped. And even in the years since, she keeps trying to placate my anger with “reasonable” concessions. She tells me I can’t let the fear rule my life, as if I didn’t know that and hadn’t been fighting it for so long that I didn’t remember anything else. She tells me she’s here to support me, until I’m having a panic attack over something she thinks should be easy, and I can hear her getting more frustrated by the day. She tells me she does actually trust me to make adult decisions, until she tries to take away the only coping strategy that’s ever worked. I need some wine.
Having individual interviews at work about changes in terms and conditions and got told by the hr manager that the extra days leave will be really helpful to me as a mother. I asked the guy who had his interview before me if he got told the extra leave would be useful as a parent. He didn’t.