A Strained Bond

She claims to hate her. Forever criticising and disapproving of everything she does. She vows to be proud if she turns out nothing at all like her. She doesn’t understand her she says, she never has, she never will and she doesn’t want to.

But she doesn’t hate her. Far from it in all honesty, she desperately yearns for her approval. She always has. She wants to do her proud, to play by her rules and emerge victorious in her eyes. So much so that she’s always prioritised her happiness over her own, often without even realising it.

And so, over the years she’s slowly but surely laid the foundation for a vicious cycle of resentment that she’s now stifled by, she can’t break free. Does she even want to break free from it though? I honestly have no clue; it’s all she knows at this point.

She tries so hard to be noticed by her, to feel like she’s a priority. All the while convincing herself that she couldn’t possibly care about her, not in a genuine sense any way. She only tends to take an interest when there’s a crowd around, it’s always for show.

She often cries herself to sleep at night with these poisonous thoughts festering in her mind. As she catches her blurred reflection in the mirror she reverts back to being that little curly-haired girl again. The one who would stand on her tiptoes and adopt a high-pitched voice all in a bid to regain a sliver of the attention that was forever hoarded by her siblings.

She wants somebody to refute her irrational mindset now. To grab her by the shoulders and say, “No, of course your mother loves you, don’t be so silly.” But no assurance is enough when it’s not from the horse’s mouth.

And so it continues, the strained bond.

12 thoughts on “A Strained Bond

  1. A mother and daughter bond is something without language, there is no word, or words to describe it, so in no way, shape or form am I trying to compare, but only, if I may, try to empathize in this story. If not for the fact that it was a mother you were speaking of, I could have easily have read my sister into this story – she was the mother. We’ve had a strained bond for as long as I can remember. I kept shaking my head “uh huh” through each line.

    I hope this story is fictional, if it is, it’s quite intuitive to others, but if it’s not, my heart is with you, as I can’t imagine, though empathize, with a bond such as that with a mother.

    ❤ Much Love – Kimba

  2. Your beautiful words just made my day. Thank you so much for adding such magical drop of words in my jar of motivation.I feel blessed by your writing right now.
    I found delight love in what you just said in your post.
    Again such a beautiful write up on your blog.
    Keep the vibes on.

    Peace ✌and Love ❤

  3. Am speechless right now, dnt know what to say right now.

    When I first saw the topic i was thinking it was a normal post.I have to read to the end. I found out is quite different. I knew it was going to be a good and inspirational  post.

    Am the type who reads very inspiring and short story. since it’s talking about your health, I have to read and make my own view about it.
    For me am the type who engaged in such also. When I read to the middle part i was convince that the  post was different. I didn’t waste my time in reading it instead I read it like a 5years old.

    You write and explaination are quite OK.
    I make reference to it later  in preaching and promoting my blog. You just touch my spirit this morning. Thank you so much for adding such magical drop of words in my jar of motivation.
    I feel blessed by your post  right now.Again such a beautiful post.

    Remain blessed.

    Peace ✌and Love ❤

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