"I do not let her into the innermost workings of my mind."
I learned at a very early age when I was essentially powerlessness that nothing angered my mother more than feeling that I might have an independent thought that she knew nothing of.
I can remember counselling sessions when she would say, "I think Karen did this because of that." I used to sit there at nine or 10 years of age and think, "I wonder why you didn't just ask me."
Once in my teens I was sent to the local grocery store to buy milk. As I walked by the gas station I saw the owner holding a classmate of mine by his collar against the wall. There was, obviously, a problem.
The next day, as we sat down to dinner, Saint Mom began what she always did, holding court with local gossip, true or untrue. She said that my classmate, Steve, had been caught stealing at the gas station.
I said, "Yes, I saw that."
Mother: "YOU DID NOT!!!"
Me: "Yes, that happened when you sent me to the store for milk."
Mother: "If you ever saw anything like that, you would have run home and told us."
I look up, and my father, sister, and brother are looking at me scornfuly. I upset Saint Mom with the truth.
I understand the appearance thing also. I have always said that I could be an Oscar Nominee, perfectly dressed and coiffed, and my mother would come and pick a piece of lint off my shoulder.
One day I was in a store with my back to the door when my "mother" walked up and said, "Why do you walk on the insides of your feet?"
She made a big issue about her perceived need for me to have surgery (my father had flat feet) when I hsd no pain or problem at all.
Sorry if I hijacked your thread.
