“My man comes before the children.”

I battle with the fact that there are mothers who will pick their husbands over their children. I don’t know how it works. I know wealthy, successful women who treat their children like trash and will do anything, anything for their abusive husbands.  I guess things never go well when people mistake emotional dependency for love.

 

See the thing is, I think women by now should know that romantic relationships can end. How many people have you dated that you thought would be The Last?  How many friends have you had that you lost over nonsense? Now, when it comes to family, especially extended family members but this counts for nuclear family members too..I think we love each other because we should. We don’t have a choice. We’re confined together and happen to be related so we feel the need to get along, and due to the fact that we interact so often, we grow to like each other, then love I guess. Sometimes.

But that’s with people who didn’t come out of you. People you didn’t nurse. Didn’t carry. Only have a somewhat superficial relationship with. When a woman clings to her man more than her children..I’m both saddened and disgusted.  

 

I had this friend who was born to her mother out of wedlock before her mother met and married another man. The two succeeded in their respective career paths and are now quite wealthy, with two children who came after her first daughter.  From the outside honestly things look lovely and I personally wouldn’t believe some of the things that went on in that household had I not seen some of it. 

This young Lady’s mother would pounce on her at any given time and choke her daughter. She was convinced she was trying to “take her man” and would constantly tell her daughter “If anything ever happened I’m choosing my husband and children over you.”  Now this girl was beautiful, intelligent too and yet she never got the opportunity to shine because whenever she did anything good, her mother would take the opportunity to strike her down, either verbally of physically.  She was constantly told she wasn’t worth anything and would constantly break down at school. Frankly some of us were convinced she was a tad bit crazy but looking back now, what seemed surreal back then is probably a common occurrence.

Noticing her mother’s obvious distaste for her child her step father took to molesting her and would constantly remind her that if she told, her mother would never believe her. And the painful thing is, we all knew it to be true.

It’s very hard to extract yourself from painful situations when you live in that environment. Nobody is raised to believe a family is meant to be anything but Happy, but experience teaches you otherwise. I’m not sure if it’s easier to accept these things when you’re younger or older but..It is what it is.

Maybe I don’t understand. I am not a mother. Maybe there are circumstances I can’t relate to and I’m being a judgmental being. But this is my opinion. This is how I feel.

My father and I don’t have much of a relationship. Despite the fact that we live together, we haven’t said anything more than “Dumelang” to each other since before Christmas. I’m not about to tell you why, it’s not relevant, but I will tell you what I learned about “Love”,marriage and respect from one experience.

 

When I was in High School I came home tipsy one evening. It wasn’t that late, but it was later than usual.  I was probably 15 and according to my parents I had already started a downward spiral into whatever Hell they thought a little Black girl could end up in.  

My father called me into their room and my mother was there. He proceeded to tell me why he didn’t like my behaviour and everything was fine, I understood where he was coming from, til he got mad. At some point during his tirade he said to me “You’re never going to be anything. I can tell. You’re going to grow up to be a prostitute selling your body for alcohol and I’m ashamed I even have to share my name with you. I should’ve let you die when I had the opportunity to tell the doctors to.” [I was a breech baby.  And my mother had a particularly hard time during my birth. At some point the doctors believed neither of us would survive] Anyway,at this point I begin to cry, bawl really. I wasn’t ready for that. Not in the least. A teenager had come home slightly tipsy to that. But at that point what really ripped me apart was the fact that my mother never once defended me or told him he was out of order. I was young, I did not have a voice then and could do nothing but cry. She, was closer to his equal than I was. Instead she turned away and waited for him to finish. I sat there well after he was done, waiting..and she still said nothing. I walked to my room with the realization that I was not the one. In the end, my tears had done nothing and she had let him say what he did. I was second to a man she didn’t even need in her Life.  And I’m not sure how I feel about that to this day.

I spoke to her about it much later and she said she “couldn’t” say anything because he had to discipline me and it was not her place to go against anything he said. That time, that moment there, was probably when I started giving a fuck less about marriage and obedience.

I don’t think obedience is an excuse. I don’t think one can hide behind “respect”.  I think it’s pathetic and sad. And no good can come from mistaking emotional dependency for Love. None. 

I also wonder if it’s ever worth it.. Because in the end you know you’re merely grovelling for affection from someone who has no time for you,and you’re turning away from what really HAS a connection to you, to beg. I don’t know if it could ever be easy, nor if it’s ever necessary. I think not. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s