<
rant>

If there is one thing that hurts more than anything else, it's when my mother can't stand to see me happy. It's when her endless thirst for drama, conflict, and war comes running after me, teeth bared, long after I've backed away from the challenge. It's when I'm accused of "romanticizing" the life she's forced me to live, because I've brought resilience out of the wreckage of the past two years, and begun to pick up the pieces as I learn to survive on my own -- because I'm finally starting to realize that I'm the only person I'll always be able to rely on for the rest of my life. It's when she repeatedly informs me that I've made her life hell. It's when she starts to shed tears for her own entertainment, and makes me feel overcome with guilt even though I am the one being victimized. It's when she denies the words that are etched across my mind for the rest of my life. It's when I tear myself away from the temptation of apologizing for nothing, of trying for the millionth time to make everything better, and instead trudge to my car to face another day knowing that our relationship will turn out the same as the one she has with my estranged grandmother. It's when I lie awake at night staring at the rocking chair she used to sing me to sleep in when we were mother and child, in that different life we had fifteen years ago. It's when I wish I had a mother to give me advice and hold me while I cry and believe in my dreams. It's the sick jealousy I feel when I see my friends' mothers, and the guilt that floods my mind when I become aware that I am jealous. It's the embarrassment I feel when anyone asks.

If there is anything I have learned from all of this, it is never to become that person. The person who thrives off of other people's unhappiness, who stumbles through life bruising other lives. I will never be like that. I will never do this to my child.

< /rant >