The Bus Stop

I love my mom. I really do. Nevertheless, the woman has a terrible habit of throwing me under the bus. She does this for two reasons: I) she has been trained by patriarchy that women are less important and her kneejerk reaction if my brothers or her siblings are upset is to try to get me to see how and why it is my fault and I should make nice with the poor dear creatures and 2) having had an abusive childhood she cannot handle conflict. She values peace at any price and invariably that price has been not only her well-being/happiness/integrity/trust but mine as well. It is hard for her to fathom why I don’t also gladly pay the price to restore “harmony” to the “family”.

I keep telling her it’s her fault I won’t take any crap. She gave me too many hugs as a child and too much self-esteem for me to bow to patriarchal horseshit at this late date.

Yes, my relationship with my mother is complex but loving. How could you tell?

Anyway, remember how a few weeks ago my batcrap crazy SIL Taintface called me ranting in a psychotic break with reality? Well, my mom is trying to make peace by hinting I should say I am sorry for “implying” they were bad parents.

Um, no.

For one thing, I “implied” nothing;  I flat out stated that picking a vacation over your child’s Asperger’s testing was a dick move. It was the truth and I stand by it. For another thing, Taintface  and BabyBro wouldn't have gotten their precious feelings hurt if Taintface hadn’t attacked me. They metaphorically dropped bombs on my Pearl Harbor, and now mom wants me to say I’m so sorry that I detonated an atomic bomb in their psyche.

Not going to happen.

I am never sorry for defending myself from unjust attacks. I am never sorry for winning the “war”. I won’t use weapons “preemptively” and I won’t fire after a peace treaty, but if attacked I will by Gum be the one still standing. I am just made that way.

My mom isn’t made that way. Therefore, I want to protect her even as she is gearing up to throw me under the bus.

It’s complicated.

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