This post is a little scattered and jumping from one thing to the next.. trust me these things are connected - somehow.
I just read some things I wrote when I was with my ex and in college...
And talked to a friend of mine about how I used to throw breakfast down the toilet when I was a kid..
I don't recognize myself in these people. In these people who existed before... and yet I feel all this affection and love for the little scared kid who threw away her breakfast. And I feel exposed and vulnerable and wistful reading the things I wrote when I was a cocky college-goer in my first relationship thinking that being direct and honest made me above relationship drama, not realizing I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole.
Naive. Scared. Confused.
I think it's sick to bring children up using the fear and guilt of religion as ways to discipline them. Telling them god will punish them if they don't do one thing or do something else. It's sick, it's blackmail. It's giving them no option to defend them self or their point of view and makes them feel guilty for having a different point of view or feelings or desires. And emotionally black mailing moms... they are so prevalent.. maybe I will understand when I am a mother, but right now, it just feels utterly cruel to emotionally blackmail your own kids! I mean ok fine, when they are older and leaving you and you are scared that you don't know how to be someone that is not a mom, I can see that... or maybe that's the problem. You need to not forget how to be not a mom, and be yourself, otherwise you do cling on enough to emotionally blackmail. When we don't look after ourselves and our self is defined by the fact that someone else needs us, we can't ever be truly sincere. Co-dependence, in a nutshell.
My mom was always in a state of emergency. Constantly. And I was always sitting there wide eyed waiting for the next emergency instruction. Except I could not swallow food when I was nervous. We would always be rushing in the morning because I had to catch my school bus otherwise my mom would have to drive me (which meant I would never ever hear the end of it)! And my mom would never let us go to school without breakfast. That is why my poor little breakfast secretly went down the toilet. So I could just get out of my mother's war path and get to school and get some peace.
But I am not that person anymore... except on some level I am. College seems to be those few years, I dared to say what I was thinking and demand being accepted the way I was, and I look back on it, and it horrifies me that I exposed myself that way. Absolutely horrifies me.
So I guess I haven't evolved as much as I thought.