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one of the scariest things I did during my divorce was to text Andrew's mother every horrible thing I think about her. I was enraged that she had co-created such a dick of a son. Mothers are so crucial. I was way way out of line and wish I could have kept it together, yet I didn't.
I fucking hate that lady. I don't really know why, but we'll delve into it here shall we.
From the moment I met her, I detested her.
She had a really hard act to follow. I was IN LOVE with my original MiL and wept when I left her home after visiting for the first time.
I was in too deep by the time I met Andrew's parents. I think we were already planning on hitching our wounded egos together with frayed lassos. However, my maxim of "judge the son by meeting the mother" holds.
God, she was a sanctimonious bitch. Obviously, it rankled me that she acted like my shoe was dipped in dog shit. She was super into dogs - standard poodles. She liked them and small children - dipping her claws into control.
Maybe I hated her because she didn't like me. Maybe I hated her because she was too like me.
When I would argue with Andrew, I would say things like "god, you're JUST like your fucking elitist snob shrew of a mother and you'll die like her with the only friend you have is... no one."
Luckily, my husband didn't need friends as his family had been enabling him since birth. I don't think there's any other milieu he could survive in. The dude had ZERO friends. When I stalked his private shit after he abandoned me, I was digging for clues. He had two photographs in his collection - both from a college course. He had zero letters or mementos of friends. It was 100% ego stuff that he collected. As I write and realize this, it makes me have somewhat compassion for him. He was just trying to get mommy to love him even though he never talked to her. He had twice-yearly phonicalls with her. She got birthday and Mother's Day. In the entirety of our marriage, I had to remind him to do those. I loved manipulating him to take the kids to go see them for their spring break - around this time actually. It meant that I got my one week alone every year. My manna.
I can't describe very well what I hated about mother and son, but it was this sanctimonious smugness. Researching about their family, god what a terrible minister. They thought their flock was a bunch of socializing hypocrites and the only TRUE believers were the lucky denizens of their amazing albeit too poor household. So the girls in the family became housewives and Walmart workers and the boys became a lawyer and an architect.
And I know it's selfish to want people to have empathy when it means they have to feel YOUR feelings instead of theirs; however, I'm pretty selfish. I wanted Andrew AND his mother to be more welcoming more accommodating . The dad was just the dad from Rebel Without A cause - "yes dear". The mom was the power. I remember seeing them at our wedding reception and realizing "he's WAY codependent on her, but he doesn't like this life."
Who would - you raised a daughter who is a professional victim who would stay home and be a child forever to a fucked up mother who loved dependent victims - as long as she got to always be the NUMBER ONE victim.
We're supposed to respect our elders, and I LOVE a good wise elder that has moved all through it, yet the older you get the more you'll realize. Mean girls grow up and they're still mean.
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