Random thought:
I need to stop thinking about over thinking so much.
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I swear I'll stop making so many (serious) posts about my Mom. I'm sure most of you that actually know me know her and I have had a pretty.. turbulent relationship to say the least. She's always been controlling and a flat out manipulative bitch, still is, just more so as I was being raised and until I moved in with my Dad. She tried to control the clothes I wore growing up, the movies I went and saw, friends I hung out with, music I listened to, games I played, parties, alcohol, my religious orientation and beliefs, girls I dated and talked to -- nearly everything. Unless it fell into the strict specific guidelines where her fucked up sense of morals or Christian beliefs approved it; it was forbidden for me to do. Needless to say I never really accepted that way of life. I've always had this insanely strong sense of individualism where it seems I'm on a constant search to discover everything in life that sounds, looks, tastes and feels good to ME and me alone.
I don't care about the millions and billions of others who conform to societies trends. I don't care about what others think is "cool" or about me (ex: zombie milking is a good example of this). That's not to say I'm one of those freaky friendless goths who has an obsession with wearing skin tight jeans or anything, but if I want to wear a pair of parachute pants that no one in their right mind has touched since the 70's since everyone in our modern society collectively agrees they're the ugliest pair of pants in the world I will do it. I am me. I'm not the trends of what sixty three million people find interesting or successful, nor will I ever be. I'll become (and continue becoming) all those things on my own terms by paving my own road and by finding my own interests in life.
I think that's why my Mom and I conflicted growing up so much though. I walked by one of her bookcases at her place earlier and was absolutely shocked with the abundance of self help books which had found a snug home there for years. On one hand, it showed me she really cared about her (future) kids and wanted them to grow up to be as successful as possible.. but in the other hand I thought it was absolutely pathetic. I don't know and can't speak for other people but I'd never buy a book written by some one else telling me exactly how to live my life. Here's a list of some of what she had in her shelf:
"7 Habits of highly effective teens"
"Successful Christian parenting" <- probably what caused most of our disagreements.
"Is this your child?"
"Raising confident kids"
"Life Strategies"
"I refuse to raise a brat"
"Hold onto your kids"
"Day by day"
"Your child's self esteem"
"Kids who succeed"
"Tips and tricks for student success"
"The explosive child"
"The power of a praying parent"
"The birth order book"
"The 10 greatest gifts to give my children"
"Kids are worth it!"
"101 things you can do for your children's future"
And a lot more. I only wrote down those, though.
Granted -- I don't have kids so I can't speak what it's like raising them, still..
It really made me think was she really so clueless when it came to parenting?
I need to stop thinking about over thinking so much.
-
I swear I'll stop making so many (serious) posts about my Mom. I'm sure most of you that actually know me know her and I have had a pretty.. turbulent relationship to say the least. She's always been controlling and a flat out manipulative bitch, still is, just more so as I was being raised and until I moved in with my Dad. She tried to control the clothes I wore growing up, the movies I went and saw, friends I hung out with, music I listened to, games I played, parties, alcohol, my religious orientation and beliefs, girls I dated and talked to -- nearly everything. Unless it fell into the strict specific guidelines where her fucked up sense of morals or Christian beliefs approved it; it was forbidden for me to do. Needless to say I never really accepted that way of life. I've always had this insanely strong sense of individualism where it seems I'm on a constant search to discover everything in life that sounds, looks, tastes and feels good to ME and me alone.
I don't care about the millions and billions of others who conform to societies trends. I don't care about what others think is "cool" or about me (ex: zombie milking is a good example of this). That's not to say I'm one of those freaky friendless goths who has an obsession with wearing skin tight jeans or anything, but if I want to wear a pair of parachute pants that no one in their right mind has touched since the 70's since everyone in our modern society collectively agrees they're the ugliest pair of pants in the world I will do it. I am me. I'm not the trends of what sixty three million people find interesting or successful, nor will I ever be. I'll become (and continue becoming) all those things on my own terms by paving my own road and by finding my own interests in life.
I think that's why my Mom and I conflicted growing up so much though. I walked by one of her bookcases at her place earlier and was absolutely shocked with the abundance of self help books which had found a snug home there for years. On one hand, it showed me she really cared about her (future) kids and wanted them to grow up to be as successful as possible.. but in the other hand I thought it was absolutely pathetic. I don't know and can't speak for other people but I'd never buy a book written by some one else telling me exactly how to live my life. Here's a list of some of what she had in her shelf:
"7 Habits of highly effective teens"
"Successful Christian parenting" <- probably what caused most of our disagreements.
"Is this your child?"
"Raising confident kids"
"Life Strategies"
"I refuse to raise a brat"
"Hold onto your kids"
"Day by day"
"Your child's self esteem"
"Kids who succeed"
"Tips and tricks for student success"
"The explosive child"
"The power of a praying parent"
"The birth order book"
"The 10 greatest gifts to give my children"
"Kids are worth it!"
"101 things you can do for your children's future"
And a lot more. I only wrote down those, though.
Granted -- I don't have kids so I can't speak what it's like raising them, still..
It really made me think was she really so clueless when it came to parenting?
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