Did you have a better childhood than your mother’s?

Absolutely not.  In fact, my mother spent so much time glamorizing and glorifying her perfect childhood to us that it was a deep space of sadness for my sister and I. We often felt that this wonderful beautiful childhood that my mother experienced no longer exist, and we are destined to a negative childhood. childhood where neighbors don’t talk to each other, people are not family, and then there is no love in the world. Sure times are changing, there is a difference between the United States and other countries. And of course many people do have these gripes of the fact that the human touch is no longer as existent given modernism and technology. But at the ripe age of five or eight or whatever why w so burdened with such thoughts and such sadness. Because once again my mother‘s voice   When I look back at my childhood all I can see is sadness. Whether it was feeling sadness for my mother who is suffering for all the after mentioned reasons above due to her husband and family. Sadness for feeling lonely, and feeling like I was born into this life of only of us because as my mother said that is our bad luck. And just sadness in general because there was always a sense of unease, that what we had was not good enough, such as we are on this amazing Disney World trip but there is something missing everyone else is happy but we are not because we are not lucky to have what they have. So all in all know my childhood in fact would be described as very terrible. At the age of 32 now it almost feels weird to say that Because as you know I have been repressing these truths for all these years. I wasn’t hiding them because I was embarrassed I truly did not know that. Not to mention the fact that my mother made it very evident that we were never supposed to show anything bad about our life we were always supposed to make everyone think we had a perfect life and even try to be jealous of us, this behavior of hers came into play later when I was closer to adolescence. But of course that’s what sticks.

Do you have a better life than your mother?

What a simple but difficult question. My knee-jerk reaction is to say yes of course I do, I have the independence to live where I want, Mary who I want to, the educated and successful in my own right. Of course I have a better life, for she moved here to give me this opportunity so that I would have a better life. This is an innate response that perhaps many immigrant children have, and it is definitely the knee-jerk response for me. But knowing what I know over the last two weeks with our conversations and really letting all that sink in. Do I have a better life than my mother?

Sure I can be at a five-star luxury hotel, I do medical conference, be on awonderful date with wonderful man. What does it all matter because I have suffered mental torture from the day I was born. What does anything matter what are you are rich or poor, uneducated  or educated an immigrant or —not if your baseline self never feels at ease.  My sister has touched on this, and your response was on point. I suffer from insomnia, headaches, chronic muscle tension and of resent over the last year and again now deep feelings of despair anxiety and sadness. My mother sleeps fine every single night, she never has an ache or pain, she doesn’t have somatic manifestations of this anxiety because she doesn’t have the emotional capacity to really absorb or suffer in the way that my sister and I do. Do I want her to suffer in that way? No that’s not the point but to your question do I have a better life than my mother, I do not. I suffer to a greater extent and so many ways and just my daily breathing that she does not. I don’t have to validate and say well at least I wasn’t abuse the same way by my own  Family and husband. But you want to know something, I was abused by my own mother tell me what greater abuse then from your own mom?

• This reply was modified 6 years, 10 months ago by Cali Chica.