Tell Me about Yourself….Or Not.

“Did you see how the conversation about my mom and the issues she is going through, became a conversation about your mom?” The text had read.

“Yup.” I confirmed.

She kept talking. We kept rolling our eyes without rolling our eyes. She was clueless. We were texting each other on the couch. Right in front of her, but she was so involved with her own conversation about herself, she never noticed.

It doesn’t matter what kind of conversation you began, my mother dominated it with something about her. For the last two years she has complained about not knowing my boyfriend well because of the distance, but when he comes to visit, she hardly let’s anyone get a word in edgewise. How can she really get to know someone, when she doesn’t ask them questions? How can she get to know someone when all she talks about is herself?

Sometimes I wonder if she bases weather or not she likes someone by how they respond to her talking about nothing but herself, her life, her experiences, her health, her children and their issues and how she doesn’t know how they became that way etc. If she isn’t talking about herself, she is talking about everyone else, and almost always negatively. Sometimes I also wonder if she really ever cares to get to know people, or if she just wants to force her life on someone else? I will probably never know. I don’t know if she even realizes she does it.

It is difficult to be a critical person living with other critical people. Usually, we are our own worst critics already, but then to have other critical people in the house portioning out what you already know is wrong with you, and making a bigger deal about it than you do (which is already intense to the point of complete and utter self loathing) you pretty much are ready to die out and beyond willing to do so.

My poor boyfriend has had to endure quite a few afternoons with my mother, which I have heard about and am certainly sympathetic about. Everything from personal family finances (which are none of his business) to all my suspecting symptoms of autism (which I am pretty sure I do not have, and even if I do what good does it for me now that I am no longer in school? Just doesn’t seem necessary). She never asks much about his life, what he is up to, and how he has been doing with some of the difficult aspects of his life. He is willing to tell. He tells me all the time, and wants my family to get to know him, but he feels as though my family is unwilling to get to know him.

To be perfectly honest, I have lived with them all my life, and if have never felt like my family cares to get to know me either.


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