One of the most important relationship we’ll have, is the relationship we have with our mothers. -Iyanla Vanzant
I have and always will be Daddy’s Princess, nothing is comparable to our bond. Sure, being gay probably helps but he is an incredible father none the less. I know when I got married it was probably the hardest thing for him to give me away. [Dad, you showed me how it was supposed to be, how I deserved to be treated! The fact you had flowers delivered to the dress shop before they were even open, the day I went to buy my wedding dress, ::cough:: being gay definitely helps ::cough:: I can without any hesitation say that you set the bar high for any man I’d end up with. And I know [you] know, that I have found the one. The one who treats your Princess like his Queen.
Now, just because I am Daddy’s Princess – doesn’t mean I am not a Mama’s girl, because I very much am! Most mothers and daughters are close when daughters are young, grow apart to almost “enemy” status when the teen years roll around and rekindle their friendship once they’re both adults – especially both mothers. Hi. I am an adult, a mother and yes, my mother IS my best friend. How cliche… But here’s the deal: the above scenario is not exactly how things went down. In fact, it was actually my teenage years that brought us closer.
As previously mentioned, never once did I question my parent’s love and support. I knew my mother loved me, I knew she supported me. But feeling it… knowing and feeling are two different things. I may have known the above but I didn’t always feel it. As I’ve gotten older I can understand why Mom made some of the decisions she did and I honestly can’t say one way or another if I agree or disagree. Adolescent Jena on the other hand: disagrees. Mom was under a lot of stress, so much so that she got very sick. Granted – we know now that she probably would have gotten sick regardless, just most likely not as severely, had there not been so much stress. I mean, who wouldn’t be stressed looking at the facts? A toxic relationship with her own mother, the loss of a child (they had Ryan between Jack and I, he passed shortly after birth), an alcoholic husband that lead to a divorce, adjusting to life as a working single mother, her now ex-husband coming out as gay, selling a house and moving, and a son who was battling his own feelings. Talk about a mind fuck in just a few short years!
During the divorce Mom joined Al Anon – escentially A.A. for the family and friends affected by an alcoholic. Did it help Mom? Absolutely. Though in the end I’m not sure if it did more damage than good. It was Al Anon where Mom met Maria and our lives were changed for the better and for the worse. Diarrhea (I couldn’t correctly pronounce Maria and still find it amusing.) was married with two children, one of whom was 19, married and pregnant, the other in highschool. I mean no disrespect to her eldest, but she was the reason for Maria being in Al Anon. Maria was a former cop in a women’s prison and going to school to be a social worker.
[Oh the irony in that last sentence.. Sorry my mind is getting a head of itself.]
Mom and Maria became instant best friends, practically inseparable. I know what you’re thinking, and no, my mom is NOT gay as well; shes 100% straight. Maria? Well, we’ll get back to her. To my mom Maria was her sister, her “solemate” (in a completely platonic way – maybe more like her “twin flame”) and the one person she trusted with all that she is. To Jack and I, Maria was the bitch that took mom away, the controlling social worker who tried [telling] Mom “how” to raise us (like she knew better) and a woman we’d hold resentment and hatred towards for the rest of our lives. <- It’s true. We do and will. I tried being mature and forgiving her… until I found out how much she had in common with the Mad Hatter!
Maria’s family became our family. Her daughters, like my older sisters. Once Maria’s husband was killed (Canada’s official record: suicide, USA’s belief: murder) Mom and her grew that much closer. Again – inseparable. Every chance Mom got she was out with Maria. On weekends Jack and I were with Dad one night and Auntie the other. Mom was basically un-reachable from 6pm Friday until 6pm Sunday evening; drop off / pick up time. During the week, when mom wasn’t working (which had become part-time and remotely due to her health) she was in bed or on the couch. In other words, Mom was either sick while with us or healthy enough to get out and be social with her best friend. We rarely took vacations and yet, during our summer weeks with Dad, Mom was always traveling with Maria. It’s no wonder I had a hard time [feeling] the love. Neglect is a powerful word and as a child, I may have used it. However, as an adult, I would never use it to describe the situation. BUT! The feeling of less importance and the thought that Mom was putting Maria before me, was real. Valid even.
As a mother, it terrifies me knowing that my choices will both affect and effect my children. Jack and I both feel, I guess, betrayed? Eh… maybe not the best word to describe how I felt, but it definitely works for him. Maria had this notion that because she had been through stuff with her own daughter, she clearly knew what was “best” for everyone else’s children. Don’t even get me started on how un-ethical she was as a social worker. Two words: total hypocrite. In her mind she may have truly believed she was right, knew best and was [only] trying to help, but truth be told; here is somewhere she caused more damage than help. Yes, Jack had his issues. He too went through a lot during the time of the divorce and he experienced lots of loss for his young age. He is four years older so he understood death more than I, and we had a lot of deaths in a few short years, on top of the divorce, moving to a new city and starting over at a new school. He has always been scary smart and way advanced for his age. He could have easily been Ivy League material had things been different.
Now, I don’t want this to turn into a bashing or tell all when it comes to my brother because quite honestly, it’s not my story to tell. However, there are things that have happened that are vital to my story, why I am the way I am and who I am. When you’re a child and you go through trauma you may block it out, or if you’re like me, you’re unable to forget anything from your long-term memory and therefore hold on to it all. I remember him acting out, rebelling and being scary as fuck. Sibling rivalry is one thing, but pushing me down the stairs and chasing me around the house with a knife is a different story. I won’t deny my instigating, annoying little sister antics but some things are too much. Long story short, it’s easy to see why my mother took the advice from her “social worker” best friend. But, uh… isn’t one of the rules of social work not to “social work” your friends and family? Thought so.
Jack ended up leaving home for a bit and during that time, life was great. I had my parents to myself, I didn’t have to fear for my safety and I wasn’t dragged to a cramped waiting room to play with puppets week after week. Most importantly during that time, for the most part, I was put first!
See, not only did I feel second best to Maria, I really felt as though I was third behind Jack. And since I’m being honest, there are still days where it seems Mom puts Jack, as well as others before me. She has a problem when it comes to saying, “no” and feels it is her responsibility to be there for everyone. Maybe I am being selfish but if history has proven anything… it is not all in my head.
When Jack came home things were touch and go for a few years. Once he was in middle school and news got out about my dad, the bullies found him to be their favorite target on top of his gifted classes and ‘band geek’ status. [Side note: it was our nextdoor neighbor and his “best friend” who spilled the beans. Yeah… Jack’s [best friend] was just deferring the attention away from the fact he himself enjoyed the boys. I’d call him an asshole but the sad truth is that he did what he needed to do to survive middle school. It sucks – for everyone!] Our house soon became the victim of vandalization and Jack’s behavior quickly escalated. Mom genuinely fears for all of our safety so he started spending more time at Dad’s and by 14 he was moved in completely. Even though I had an older brother, by the time I was 10 it felt as though I was an only child, except for on weekends, Tuesday nights for dinner and 5 weeks out of the summer until I was 15.
It’s safe to say that for a few years there – okay, maybe even a decade, that Jack had some resentment towards Mom and of course blamed Maria for the choices Mom made. He rarely came around and never on his own accord. Obviously this destroyed Mom! She did everything she could but nothing helped. Not until he wanted to bring his college girlfriend home and Dad and Brian wouldn’t allow it, or rather wouldn’t allow them to shack up in the same room. It was then that Mom’s guilt came to the rescue and forever altered her behavior when Jack’s around. From then on, whatever Jack wanted, Jack got! Still true to this day whenever he is in town we are on his schedule. There was one incident when I was 17 that eventually became Mom’s eye opener. Jack and I had gotten into an altercation that resulted in him barging into the bathroom as I was getting ready to hop into the shower. I used all of my force to fight against him to close the door but his rage was too overpowering that he broke in, causing me to slam my head against the side of the tub. Screaming and crying for Mom’s help was no use. She was too busy downstairs with my aunt preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. All that my ::quote:: “overreacting” ::endquote:: did was embarrass her and piss her off. Of course it was my fault and I, “shouldn’t have instigated the situation.”
I was done!
I instantly packed some bags and moved in with my dad and Brian for the next few months. My how the tables had turned. I suppose betrayal was the correct word to use after all! Unfortunately I wasn’t able to completely cut ties with Mom due to school and my weekly homebound tutor. However, I was no longer staying quiet and made my feelings known. I would not return until she agreed and had proven things would be different… She was now in the middle of her own guilty battle.
Fortunately for me, this was around the time her friendship with Maria started to crumble. Mom was forced to step forward and physically be there for me more than ever before. Not only that, but she had made other friends and had different priorities now. Maria couldn’t handle coming second and started becoming crazy jealous. With jealousy comes anger and she was downright mean. She made Mom feel guilty over things she had no business feeling guilty over. Mom was tired of feeling like the victim, she finally had enough and stood up for herself. Yeah… that didn’t go over well and ultimately she made the decision to walk away from the friendship. It was only then she was able to see clarity. See where she went wrong and how selfish she had been.
As it turns out, Maria, the delusional, hypocritical social worker – had it in her mind that her and Mom were more than friends. Boom! Mind blown… Although, not really. Don’t get me wrong, never once did I think her and Mom were “together”, but I don’t think anyone was surprised to hear Maria was a lesbian. Anyone besides Mom, that is. Oh my poor mother! Talk about the worst gay-dar in history! Oh my god, and the betrayal?! I mean, honestly, how can anyone sane believe they are in a romantic relationship with someone without ever discussing it? There was never anything remotely romantic between them. Nothing intimate, not even a kiss. Maria never indicated that she felt anything more than the sisterly bond that Mom believed they had. Mom had no indication what-so-ever that Maria wasn’t straight. Ironically, all of her arguments “proving” why she didn’t believe it, contradicted what she already knew thanks to Dad. She’s still in denial. The worst part is that Maria is such a coward, she has never directly told Mom any of this! Then how do we know, you ask? Well, Dad ran into her and her partner, and after introducing Dad as, “Deb’s ex-husband,” (so she’s obviously mentioned my mother at great lengths) she proceeded to ask him, “you know Deb and I were together, right?” W.T. actual F.?!! Who knows if Maria actually believed it or it was all a facade for her new girlfriend; either way it’s royally fucked up! It’s no wonder my mother can’t trust anyone new. The two people she trusted and shared her life with destroyed her perception of reality.