If you were to ask my mother, she’d proudly declare that we’re best pals. We indulge in activities typical of friends—shopping trips and movie nights. She believes I share every detail of my life with her.
But from my perspective, while we do enjoy each other’s company occasionally, my mom doesn’t fit my definition of a true friend. Sure, I love her for being my mother and for all the times she’s come to my rescue over the past 31 years, but let’s be honest: most of the time, I find her insufferable.
As the only child, I had my mom’s undivided attention from the time she was a stay-at-home parent until I was well into my teenage years. It felt like I had no escape from her constant presence. By junior high, she had become my unofficial sidekick. She was overly involved in my life, volunteering at my school and chaperoning outings with my friends. If I bumped into an old classmate today, their first question would likely be, “How’s your mom?” While my peers’ parents were loosening their grip, my mom seemed to be tightening hers.
Despite being in my 30s now and even having my own child, my mother still sees me as a child. This is our biggest hurdle. I remember during my junior year of college, I was managing work at a bar while living off-campus. One night, I was working late due to a rush, and instead of trusting that I was just busy, she called my workplace looking for me. I was utterly humiliated.
When I tried to express my embarrassment the next day and asked her to respect my boundaries, she cried about how I didn’t appreciate her worry. I wished to establish healthier communication patterns—like not feeling pressured to call every day—yet whenever I attempted to create some distance, she’d lay on the guilt trip thick if I didn’t reach out within a couple of days.
No matter how many times I’ve pleaded for personal space, my requests have fallen on deaf ears. Even when I moved across the country at 25, she insisted on nightly texts checking in and would follow up with questions about my dinner or laundry. And if I didn’t respond? Well, she’d start calling around looking for me.
We do share some fun moments, like when I took her to a Broadway show for her birthday, and on shopping trips where I almost forget how she can frustrate me. But then it only takes a comment like, “You’re going out with your hair like that?” to bring me back to reality. Every little choice I make—from my hairstylist to my laundry detergent—draws a skeptical eye from her, followed by a “Really?” question. It’s no wonder I don’t feel inclined to reach out more often.
This is the same woman who proudly claims the title “Queen Bee” of our family on social media. She insists that everything must be done her way, and if I dare to disagree, it feels like a personal attack. The emotional exhaustion from her guilt trips often leaves me backing down just to end the confrontation.
Things have become even more complicated since I became a mother myself. My parenting style is vastly different from hers, and that makes her furious. Just recently, she broke down, saying she hesitates to talk to me because I have an “attitude,” even though she insists she’s only trying to help. But when she starts a sentence with, “I’m not saying you’re a bad mom, but I know more about kids than you do,” it’s hard to take her seriously.
I’ve told her countless times that if she approached me with less negativity, I might be more open to her advice. She claims she’ll “work on it,” but after 30-plus years, I’m not counting on it.
Her manipulative behavior and refusal to acknowledge my feelings played a significant role in my decision to move across the country—twice.
Let me clarify: I’m not a spoiled brat. I appreciate the sacrifices she made, like when she welcomed me and my son after my ex-partner kicked us out. She truly is a loving grandmother. Many people say I’m lucky to have a mom who’s always there for me, and in many ways, they’re right. However, just because a mother is ever-present doesn’t guarantee a healthy relationship. Her judgmental and controlling nature makes it difficult for me to break free.
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In summary, while I cherish my mother and appreciate her love, her need to control my life has created a strain that’s hard to navigate. Establishing boundaries is essential for a healthier relationship, and I continue to hope for a future where we can connect without the weight of guilt and judgment.