The way we were

 

I grew up in a family where my dad was mostly working and gone, so our world was built around a group of women, Mom, grandmas, aunts, cousins, etc. 

As a younger child I remember that my maternal grandma was wonderful, awesome, beautiful, smart, always on the go, perfect in every way. My paternal grandma was stiff, formal, snobbish, and uncomfortable to be around, but looking back I wonder. 

These views were not from my point of view. They were impressed upon me by my mother.  If you were like her, thought like her, dressed the way she liked, did the things she liked, or were from her family, you could do no wrong. You knew you were actually better than other people in so many ways and you had an obligation not to let the world ever ever ever think less of you in any of those ways. It was better to be silent and unseen than to make a mistake, or dare to err in any way.

If you were from my father's family, or anyone else who dared to be different than her ideal family, you were mocked, made fun of and looked down upon as someone weird. That went for everything from the way you wore your hair, to the clothes you wore, even the food you ate. If it wasn't her kind of food it was horrible, gaggy, no good, lousy fare.

I seldom spent any time with my paternal grandma which is probably a shame, because I suspect she and I had a lot in common. We both liked to read, paint, and sew. We made dolls, played Bridge, and enjoyed formal events just for the fun of them.

I was not encouraged to do these things. I was told if I thought I was pretty then I was not. I was told I walked like a chicken with it's head out front. I was constantly compared with my younger sister who was tiny, delicate, spunkier and better in every way - or so I thought then. I believed my mother loved me, so she must be right.

I do believe she loved me, but she had a twisted kind of love that covered up its insecurity by wielding power over those who were different from her in any way. I felt different and yet when I see photographs of me I look like any other beautiful young child with big eyes and a shy smile.

I am not the person she wanted me to be.