Standing Alone

I am lost in an individualist society.

I have no support system.

I have no family.

I have no friends.

I don’t even have acquaintances.

I attended public school and lived in the same house from birth until I was 16 years old, surrounded by peers and family – aunts and cousins. My classmates all lived within a certain small radius and many attended each other’s birthday parties. I played outside with a whole gang of multi-aged kids after school and on summer breaks.

Everyone I knew existed along the same plane, a similar demographic. There weren’t so many comparisons since there was no Internet, except maybe on Christmas and birthdays, when some kids got the big presents or name brand things…and others did not. But we didn’t really stress that much over it, and I remember more generosity and compassion then than there is now.

Perhaps it was just a bubble that burst when I grew older.

I grew and gradually felt more distance between myself and my peers. It’s like they had a linear trajectory and mine has been an absolute tangle.

And it’s like people slept through their young adult years, but never really woke up. They coast along, oblivious to anything that does not directly affect them. Why would they want to think about it? They’re not awake to anything except their daily grind. They’re so individual. They don’t notice others.

And so little does directly affect rich healthy white people.

There is no therapying away the troubles our USAian society has created and perpetuates. It’s systemic and I see little to no change in our future. We could have tackled racism and sexism and fought the patriarchy. We had the lovely opportunity to make vast revolutionary improvements during COVID and we failed, y’all.

I am constantly angry, upset, saddened by the news around the world – and by everyone being oblivious to it all. And all the information is always at our fingertips, so we are just bombarded with all the news, all the time. It was different and I know I was sheltered as a child. But I still felt all the feelings so big all the time, even then. It’s overwhelming.

I have four kids, ages 13-23. I am a horrible role model for them developing friendships. But I do know how healthy relationships should work.

When my kids were little, it was a bit easier. We could go to parks or homeschool events and kids would just congregate together and play and it was all very low-key. We didn’t have to plan much. There were no real playdates. I would listen to the moms’ conversations, but I never really had much to contribute. I would observe and learn. Almost always, I would say or do the wrong thing. I never felt accepted or included. Those moms didn’t really want to hear anything I had to say. They didn’t want to think or feel. Their conversations were always shallow – about entertainment or mothering issues or marriage troubles. It was always negative and never intellectual in any way.

It didn’t help that we moved frequently with the military. My kids feel hollow and struggle now that we are “settled” and have lived here for six years. They still don’t know how to make friends that feel permanent. I worry they will always feel transient.

I’ve been accused of being excessively angry and I have lost jobs over being too blunt. I don’t see the point of sugarcoating anything. Yet, I deliberate constantly over my word choice and tone. It seems that I never can say the right thing in the right way.

We do feel jealousy about people who have friends and family and have lived in their place essentially their whole lives.

I can only do so much within my own household. Everyone needs support.

Where do we get these relationships? Where is our village? Where are our friends?

How do I develop trust? How do I find time to nurture a friendship? It seems daunting.

And how do I learn to love others when I feel so unlovable?

My parents told me that no one would ever love me like they do.

While this seems like a wonderful, loving, caring sentiment, it is actually very toxic.

What my parents taught me while I was growing up, sometimes verbally out loud, other times subliminally by their actions, moods, reactions, and body language – is that I am worthless.

They made me believe that I couldn’t do anything right, that only my performance mattered, but it was never good enough. They complained about my appearance. They complained about my school grades. They complained I would isolate and read books. They complained if I wanted to go out. They complain if I asked for something for a holiday – even if they ask me what I want; that was not in their script.

My parents talked ill of all my extended family members. No one was a good person – my grandmothers, deceased grandfathers, my aunts, uncles, cousins. They all have fundamental problems. My parents act like they were superior in every way. As an only child, I had no one to compare my life since I was all alone. It’s been shocking to hear truths from my cousins about my parents now that I am an adult.

I was never taught how to have a relationship outside of my parents.

“There is a magnet in your heart that will attract true friends. That magnet is unselfishness, thinking of others first; when you learn to live for others, they will live for you.”

― Paramahansa Yogananda

I learned that any friendship should be lightweight because it took me away from my parents which was so selfish. When I was a teen, any boyfriend was a potential predator and I was just wasting my time anyway. It was selfish of me wanting to go out instead of staying in the house with my parents. They encouraged me to get a part-time job, but complained about my schedule. They complained when I cooked meals, but they wanted only to eat microwave dinners that I loathe.

After my suicide attempt, they really doubled down on the idea that of course no one could really love me, that they were only using me.

They taught me that they held my puppet strings and would never, ever cut those strings to allow me to be independent.

So, why is it a surprise that I learned how to be self-reliant?

I stand alone. I always have.

We are amused by and we idolize books and films and shows that portray INTJ or neurodivergent women, but no onet really wants to navigate relationships with them in real life. Wednesday Addams and Elizabeth Zott in Lessons in Chemistry are portrayed rather positively, but most are villains or bad girls.

I absolutely love and get very emotional about The Crab Scene from the Joy Luck Club. We are too often unseen and misunderstood by even the other women in our lives.

There are lessons and warnings in the old fairy tales. The “witch” seeks to capture and steal from her daughter, the “princess” her youth and beauty instead of embracing their own transition, wisdom, age, beauty in a different, less conventional or socially acceptable way.

Is a woman’s worth only in her youth, beauty, and men’s desire?

Is it any wonder that women are encouraged to pretend they’re still young and fuckable with hormone therapy, hysterectomies, mood enhancing drugs, Botox, expensive skin creams, shapewear, and all the physically, mentally, psychologically altering items we are marketed?

The Internet has brought us together in ways we couldn’t be together geographically. But, it also isolates many in the various accomodations the Internet offers. We don’t have to leave our homes to interact with others at all if we choose not to do so. There’s certainly a loss to barter for the convenience.

In my local city Facebook Moms Group, I usually lurk and read…and judge. So, so many moms post anonymously and I get that. They know they will be judged less harshly if they maintain their anonymity. The thing is that so many moms do not have any support networks and we do all judge each other way too much.

“How do you manage a relationship with in laws who don’t like you when there is children involved?”

There are 62 comments and counting. Many commenters have zero contact with family members and others have really tricky complicated relationships.

Another women’s Facebook group I’m in had a commenter mention that she was experiencing sorrow and grief making the transition to older motherhood. She realizes she will never have another baby and she is embarrassed to feel jealousy over her eldest daughter’s pregnancy. She had nowhere else to express herself other than a exercise/weight loss group! Thankfully, the mods didn’t remove the post and I am pleased by all the comments supporting and comforting and grieving with her.

Y’all, OMG we need to discuss these life experiences and transitions that women face without shame and with more love and compassion and comradery.

Our society doesn’t condone appreciating or honoring our elders. I see articles, art, movies and shows, and memes perpetuating and encouraging the younger generations to ridicule and humiliate the older generations. Sure, many refuse to grow or adapt or learn and stick to old ways that are outdated or harmful, but many of us long to bridge the gaps and help everyone rise up together.

So, so many of us didn’t get to witness our mothers, aunties, grandmothers experience feelings of loss or transition or growth or aging in any way, and certainly not in healthy ways.

Being a mother is very lonely.

While I often stand alone for my values and beliefs, it’s sad to always stand alone.

It is an honor to grow and age and transition into an elder lady with wisdom for the younger women.

Resources:

• Motherwhelmed by Beth Berry
• Jesus, the Gentle Parent by LR Knost
• Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay Gibson
• Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottman
• The Mother Dance: How Children Change Your Life by Harriet Lerner

You might also like:

• Healing Mother
• Standing Alone
• Balancing Blogging and Mothering
• Navigating Motherhood During Deployment
• A Mother’s Résumé
• Childcare Crisis

Linking up at blogs here.