Learn The Script, Ma! - A minor rant of major frustration

I hear all of you!

I haven’t gotten an unprompted “We’re proud of you” since junior high. I’m a junior in college. I guess there’s a lot to be said for high expectations.

P.S. I have a 3.16 in college. I think that’s pride-worthy! Not so much as missdavis, but pretty good. :smiley:

My mom used to do that, “Why only an A-” stuff on me, too. Used to drive me nuts. However, by the time I was ten or so, I was a fourth degree black-belt in passive-aggressive combat. The more she complained about my grades not being perfect, the less work I put into school and the more my grades slipped. Eventually, because of the inevitable screaming matches that would erupt whenever I got a report card, I started burning the things before mom saw them. When mom asked if the report card had come or not, I’d say “not yet,” “not yet” until she’d forgotten about it for a few weeks, then “Oh, it came weeks ago. I did okay. I showed it to dad.” And dad, who was usually pretty clueless about what was going on around him, would say that he had, and that was the end of it. The cool part was, once I stopped telling my mom about my school work, my grades started coming back up to my usual mid- to high B average.

:eek: :eek: :eek:

Not scarifying because after a while it truly doesn’t matter, but for perspective…

I worked my way through a bachelor’s and two masters degrees, full shot. (And didn’t hit poverty line until I was almost 30, paying for 'em.)

I never attended a graduation ceremony.

Came time for commencements and my mom said (quote), “do I REALLY have to go through all this?”

Well, no.
It hurt–very badly–each time, for the simple fact that no one cared enough to attend and just be proud. (My sis lived 1500 miles away, broke and couldn’t be there.)

For all the drawbacks, age lends charity in return. Sorta. Usually. In better moments.

Parents are fallible people too, and both of mine were fighting their own demons at the time. The simple truth is neither one saw me. They gave me standards–a huge gift–but bobbled in execution.

It’s taken long, hard years to stumble toward something approximating grace about this. (“Grace” in all senses.) They did the best they could at the time. Too often children become extensions of self, or possessions or projections; the push goes both ways. It’s just deeply fraught all the way around.

Sometimes even parents break. And all you can do is walk on.

I hope that isn’t too raw. (I can’t believe I wrote it.) But it isn’t hopeless, either.

Sometimes it’s necessary to walk your own path then consider a separate peace/forgiveness/whatever later.

Probably said too much–but needs ride,

Oh, A-fucking-men to that.

Here’s what I’ve learned from it: Find someone else to be proud of you (as well as being proud of yourself). I have several close friends and my husband to brag to now about accomplishments, and they actually are very happy for me and tell me they are proud. My closest friend/substitute mom cried when I told her that my professor wrote on a paper: “The is the best paper I’ve ever read on this topic”. She was that proud.

When you can climb out of the crap and seek out what you want, life gets so much nicer. I will likely not even invite my mother to my graduation. She wasn’t invited to my wedding, either. Some people don’t deserve your pain, even if they’re related.


So it is theoreticlay possible to come home with a score of ASS?


“How ya dooin in school?” “Ass”

Sorry. snicker