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Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Snoop! There She is!

My mother stood facing my sister Dana with such a stern look, I circled around avoiding this conflict. I had walked in on so many moments like this that I got use to ducking down or finding another way out. My sister was yelling at my mom now as I stared on in fear. Our mother had read some private letters my sister had hidden in her side of the bedroom. Mom stood her ground stating clearly "I am your mother and I have the right to know what you are trying to hide to help you not make a bad choice or mistakes." I watched as Dana was fuming with anger. To say that our mother was a SNOOP is putting it nicely, The woman turned over mattresses, pulled out dresser drawers and even went threw our trash cans. NOTHING was safe and I had to learn this the hard way just like my sister. I think most children at one point or another have something mean to say about their parents. In MY childhood I had notebook full of such things! It was both embarrassing and humiliating to have the things I thought about my parents read back to me from that notebook as mom seemed so upset. I learned as a small child that there are things, there are feelings you just have to hide. Maybe that is why now as an adult I can't hide it anymore. One afternoon when I was 15 years old I walked into my bedroom with my mom laying on my bed reading all my journals. "What are YOU doing!" I demanded and she mumbled back "I am reading." I stood there shocked and invaded. I knew that while I was writing my life down in all those journals that I had to be careful if they were discovered what was said or written in them. Things like my strong crush on a boy or a semi-dirty joke that I heard would NEVER be written down in case a moment LIKE THIS ONE happened and I was so misunderstood back when I was 10 years old writing about how mad I was at my mom. When she found out she didn't let it go, instead she would bring it up time and again. I walked away from that moment of my mom reading my stack of journals on my own bed. I began trying to understand my REAL thoughts and how could I survive in a family of such craziness! The older I got the more aware of my mother reading my journals and her sneaking around my bedroom. That is why to THIS day I will know if someone was in my home while I was gone. My husband thinks I am crazy but then when it turns out to be true he laughs saying I could be a detective. I think to myself it comes from having a snoopy mother, I would set my mom up in my journal entries saying things only in there then later when Mom mentioned what I wrote in around about way I would have NO DOUBT she got that information only from my journals. If I wanted to be mean I could have really messed with her about what I wrote. Instead I had code words for important things I wanted to write about, Then I would send out my letters to my aunts and cousins with the warning to follow the code words or NOT mention anything I write about or else I would get into so much trouble because the number one thing to remember is my mother read EVERY letter I received first before she gave to me. THIS was all apart of her rights as a mother to know everything. It would be odd to her that a letter just happened to show up for me after a big family dramatic scene, where I wrote to one of my aunts all my tears and confusion over it.  The older I got the bigger the issues and worse our family fights became, Mom would say "If only I caught your sister's love letters before she ran away from home!" I would reply "She said you did find them and now you won't give them back." My mom would mumble "She had more I just know it! Those worldly friends encouraged her to run away from home." I would sigh thinking that trying to follow my mother's thoughts were just as confusing as when I said "STOP opening up all my mail!" at my frustrating age of 20 years old. She said "I am the mother it is my job to protect you from making bad choices." My sister pointed it out that our mother was seeking something for years, she thought it was hidden in our bedrooms. It was something that could proved she wasn't a bad parent, instead it was from the outside world that got into her home and ruined her children. She may always think to herself  "If Only I had looked there..."  and NOW I understand why I personally hate hiding anything from anyone.

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