My Mother And I Essay

988 words - 4 pages

My mother was born on April 11, 1970 the last of ten children; her mother was in and out of her life all during her adolescent years, as she struggled with drug addiction and prostitution. My mother lost both of her parents at age fifteen and had me when she was sixteen. She married at sixteen since my father was much older than her it was required otherwise; he would have gone to jail. The relationship that I want to talk about in this essay is the one of my mothers and mine. My mother struggled to raise me, we grew up together, since she was only a child herself when she had me, and most certainly had no portrayal of what a parent should be. We have had many vicissitudes throughout my ...view middle of the document...

She did not allow me to wear pants, cut my hair, or go to any functions growing up unless they were church related. This isolation caused more of resentment than anything else did, unfortunately I did not understand that she was afraid because of everything she had endured in life. It seemed to her that I would be better off away from life than potentially being hurt by anything. The mix between her abuse she endured and religion is what caused what almost ended our relationship.
When I turned eighteen I was dating someone whom she thought was the one when he turned out to not be “the one”, she was livid thinking I would never be married and it was all over. I eventually moved on with David whom is now my husband, but it was a rocky start. Since David did not go to the church, and he was not what she thought was an acceptable person to be with, she shunned any idea of David and I being together. I explained to her multiple times that David and I where only friends and that we were not very serious at the time of her concern, this did nothing for her she only became angrier. Eventually I took the rage she was in as her feelings toward anything I enjoyed or liked. Our last straw moment came when members of the church saw David and me at a local store. The stories where endless, from me being pregnant, to me being involved with gang activity, it was ridiculous. So at nineteen, which was the time of this occurrence, I had purchased my own vehicle, was paying rent to live at home, and had a stable job at a bank. This does not appear to me...

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