I found myself this weekend having somewhat of an out of body experience. Or at least a dual consciousness.
I was sitting in the formal livingroom at my aunt and uncle's house this Sunday evening, having a peer-to-peer conversation with my relatives. I found myself, while holding down an intelligent exchange, feeling that it was somewhat surreal. (the grown ups
, dude!) And you know what? It felt good. Comfortable even.
Even at the age of 31, with a husband and three children of my own, I still feel like a kid sometimes; especially in that arena. Reflecting back today, I suspect it was the absence of my mother that brought on my sudden feeling of independence and grownupness. (yes, that's a word. shut up.) My mom was ill and wasn't able to make it to Easter dinner with the whole famdamily. And while I was dreading it initially, it turned out to be a positive experience.
How to describe Mom without sounding petty and/or irrational... Mom has a certain way of making everyone around her feel a little bit less, a little bit watched, a little bit judged. It's not really anything that she says, not in so many words. It's all done very passive aggressively, with a slight intonation of her voice a look, subtle body language. This is also her way of avoiding any responsibility for the feelings in invokes in those around her; the ones being watched, the ones being judged. As I have grown older, I have become more brave in confronting her when these looks and tones rear their ugly heads but her response is always that it is my perception
of events, that it's not real at all. She is the
Queen of Denial.
In a sick and twisted way it makes me obsessively crave her acknowledgement and approval. I have vowed endless times that I'd keep personal details to myself, that I wouldn't open myself up to the hurt of scrutiny and never quite living up to her expectations but I'm kinda stupid that way. Or weak maybe. I constantly find myself slipping out too much personal information, only to have it come back and bite me in the ass in the end. I'll learn one day. Maybe.