A
Allegra
Guest
So, throughout my life, my mother has had a long-term friend who bullied me on several occasions when I was growing up. The incidents were scarce, since she lived out of town and most of it was inappropriate, negative comments, mostly about my appearance. Sometimes it extended to criticizing my friends and my being “too smart”. At my 13th birthday party, it escalated to body shaming, which my drunken aunt actually called her out for, rather than my mother. When I was 16, she was in town and my mom asked her to drive me to work. During the time we were alone, she lit into me in an incredibly inappropriate way, criticizing my body, my hair, the fact that I hadn’t ironed my work smock, and telling me that I would never find love if I didn’t change my ways. When I went home from work, I told my mother what she had said and my mother accused me of not wanting her to have any friends. There were more incidents at my high school graduation and my sister’s wedding, but by that point, I was done and began standing up for myself. My mother would respond by saying I was embarrassing her and never once stood up to this friend on my behalf. There was an argument about my now being willing to invite her to my own wedding and at that point, my mother did admit that some of the things her friend had said were “vain” and “silly”, but continued to insist that I was too sensitive and that it was going to be horrendously embarrassing for her to not invite her “best and oldest friend” to her daughter’s wedding.
So that’s the background, not that it really matters much. The point is, this is hardly the only or even the worst bully I’ve ever encountered. I’ve had a handful of people in my life who have hurt me in far more significant ways. Even so, while I’ve been able to move on from those hurts and forgive those individuals, in some cases even continuing to have relationships with them, I’ve always felt that I would be perfectly content to see this particular friend of my mother’s die alone on a pile of perfectly ironed smocks and hair products. I don’t really think of her all that often, (maybe once a year, if that) but when I do, I get MAD. Anyway, I had a dream last night that involved her and I’ve been cranky all day. I was just thinking to myself, “Why does this mean old bag bother me so much when I don’t even have to see her anymore?” After some prayer on the subject, it occurred to me that it really wasn’t her that I was so angry with, but my mother who cowardly failed to protect me and stand up to her. It’s easier to be angry with the friend, than it is to be mad at the person who actually had a responsibility to me and is still a part of my life. Not that I foresee any benefit to attempting to have further confrontations with my mother on the subject. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten about as much remorse as I’m going to see from her. But it did kind of make me feel better and less cranky.
Upon writing this, I realize that I don’t really have a question and this post probably won’t produce much of a discussion, but I already wrote it so, in case it’s helpful to anyone in a similar situation, here it is.
So that’s the background, not that it really matters much. The point is, this is hardly the only or even the worst bully I’ve ever encountered. I’ve had a handful of people in my life who have hurt me in far more significant ways. Even so, while I’ve been able to move on from those hurts and forgive those individuals, in some cases even continuing to have relationships with them, I’ve always felt that I would be perfectly content to see this particular friend of my mother’s die alone on a pile of perfectly ironed smocks and hair products. I don’t really think of her all that often, (maybe once a year, if that) but when I do, I get MAD. Anyway, I had a dream last night that involved her and I’ve been cranky all day. I was just thinking to myself, “Why does this mean old bag bother me so much when I don’t even have to see her anymore?” After some prayer on the subject, it occurred to me that it really wasn’t her that I was so angry with, but my mother who cowardly failed to protect me and stand up to her. It’s easier to be angry with the friend, than it is to be mad at the person who actually had a responsibility to me and is still a part of my life. Not that I foresee any benefit to attempting to have further confrontations with my mother on the subject. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten about as much remorse as I’m going to see from her. But it did kind of make me feel better and less cranky.
Upon writing this, I realize that I don’t really have a question and this post probably won’t produce much of a discussion, but I already wrote it so, in case it’s helpful to anyone in a similar situation, here it is.