This year, I'm taking back my birthday!

That’s right. I am determined to have a good time this birthday, and it isn’t gonna be pretty.

Normally I despise my birthday, and here’s why:

Every single year, my mom insists on coming to town to stay with us for my birthday, and usually winds up cooling her heels here for about a week or two. She doesn’t visit because it’s my birthday. She does it because there’s an annual sale at the local Neiman Marcus and she lives elsewhere where there isn’t a Neiman’s. She also gets bored at home (which is a 3-hour drive), so she comes here to be bored.

Anyway, she stays with us, sits on my couch all day complaining or asking “watcha doin’?” She’ll occasionally (ever other day at my place, far less at hers) get genteelly tipsy (because Southern ladies never get drunk) and start making faces at me like a two-year-old, somehow managing to knit or sew at the same time. Then she’ll try to decide what the have for dinner, and will occasionally drag her butt off my couch to shop while I try frantically to get some work done. Intermittently, I will get the usual diatribe on the fact that I need to wax my eyebrows, cut and dye my hair, and, gee I’m getting a little pudgy.

Then my actual birthday rolls around and she squeals, “Oh, let’s cook at home this time!” Then she proceeds to decide for me over my protests what I want for my birthday, pretends like she’s going to cook it, then “supervises” me while I spend two or three hours cooking a complicated meal I really didn’t want anyway. While I’m eating it, like during all holidays, Mom tries to force more food on me than I want. I fend off her advances, nearly making her cry, then when I accept the food, she tells me I shouldn’t eat it 'cause I’ll get fat.

When it’s all done, I still have to wash the dishes because, in my house, she who cooks does not have to clean. Mom is still laboring under the delusion that her supervising me means that she’s cooking, not me.

When I wake up in the morning, Mom’s still there, wondering what “we’ll” be cooking for dinner that night. (Did I mention Mom was a bit obsessed with food?)

I tried telling the woman I was going out of town this year. She said, “Oh, can I borrow the keys to your condo? I’ll just bring a friend and we’ll stay at your place.” :rolleyes:

Anyway, I’ll be 29 this year (in 9 days, anyway), and it’s way past time I did something about this. I’m not quite sure how to go about it, but I’m relatively sure that, no matter how diplomatic I am, it’s not going to be pleasant. I expect lots of crying, screaming and yelling with a heaping helping of guilt.

I normally hate my birthday. This year, I’m dreading it because I’m actually working up the friggin’ courage to make sure I have fun. But even though I’m dreading it, I’m doing it anyway.

Anybody else despise their birthday? Why or why not?

Take it from someone who let the trears, guilt and insults work for 45 years, breaking the cycle now is the best present you can give yourself. You may not enjoy this birthday because of guilt but it will be worth it. Just don’t back down next year.

My advice would be tell her you’re leaving town, and then go. If she shows up anyways, tough. But it’s your decision, handle it however you think is appropriate.

I’ve always hated my birthday, partly because of social issues at school, and partly because of when it lands. The date started becoming a problem as I got older and wanted to have sleepovers. The closest weekend to my birthday is always Mother’s Day, and having a Saturday/Sunday party just wasn’t happening. But it wasn’t always possible for me to have a Friday/Saturday party either. (Yes, I know, juvenile, but I was 12).

Around the same time I started having social problems, and for the last few years, I haven’t had any really good friends I could celebrate with. I would attempt to do something, but it always fell flat on it’s face. It’s only been the last couple years that I’ve had people around me (besides family) who actually cared that it was my birthday.

Now I’m in university, and have loads of great friends…but I can’t celebrate with them because my birthday falls in the summer :smack: This year I didn’t bother planning anything. Nothing special happened (Another friend was going to take me to a new bar since I was turning legal, but we couldn’t find a ride, and I wasn’t driving as that would defeat the purpose) but I wasn’t expecting much so it wasn’t so bad.

Congratulations on standing your ground this year :slight_smile: If I’ve got half a brain I’ll take a leaf out of your book and do the same myself next year.

I hate birthdays, Xmas, and all occasions where the my family is forced into contact with each other regardless of their moods at the time. My family is *hellishly * moody, and all it takes is one of them to have the shits up on that day and they’ll make an effort to ensure the day sucks for everyone.

I’d far rather just catch up with everyone individually.

My birthday this year was a case in point; my father insisted * we all have tea together and then proceeded to play Fractious Two-Year-Old all night. No matter what anyone said, it was ‘Why?’ (with an aggressive-disbelieving tone). At one point I mentioned we were looking at putting up a book case in the computer room and a friend was going to do it since he could get the materials cost-price through his workplace. And so the inquisition starts.

Why did I want a bookcase? (DUH!!! WhyTF do you think?)
Why didn’t I want a pre-made one? Why’d it have to be built-in?

And the final cruncher: In response to a question, I replied it hadn’t been measured up yet, but the guesstimate was around $500.

At this point I lose my temper and say ‘Because that’s the cost of the (badword) materials, that’s why! The (badword) wall is almost 4 metres long - how much do YOU think it should cost? And what is this, the (badword) Spanish Inquisition?’

(I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition!)

I apologised a second or so later, into the silence of the room. Admittedly, my father did stop being a prize asshole for the rest of the night, though he was still clearly moody, but this is just this year’s example of why I can really do without birthdays.

  • He’s an ex-cop and sometimes I think he forgets we’re a) not in interrogation now and b) not guilty, nor charged with anything.

Your not going to “take back your birthday” most likely you will end up losing your nerve and the same thing will happen this year as every year. C’mon it’s your mom and unless you hate her when or if she STARTs crying then you are going to back track and begin apologizing and she will end up on your couch just like every other year…unless you already did it and I’m totally wrong. And if you did or do take your B-day back then you will feel bad about it and go out of your way to make up for it.

BTW I love my B-DAY.

Tell her you’ve joined the Orgy of the Month Club and this month’s meeting is on your birthday, at your house, and she’s not a member.

Tell her I’m a member, though!

Khiadra- I knew you had to be Australian before I read your location. The terminology!

That’s it. Being one who had to put their foot down…my parents were entirely too pushy in my life, too…you have to be firm.

Mine were REALLY tough. They came to my employer’s tried to grab my arm and hustle me out of there. I had bruises on my arm for a few days. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not claiming abuse, just that they were very misguided in the right way to go about it. I had to threaten the police on them before they backed down.

Seriously, just call her, say “I’m going out of town, sorry. There’s a lease agreement, I can’t let anyone else stay in my condo while I’m gone.” And then go. Don’t argue with her, don’t yell, don’t scream. if she starts doing all that, hang up the phone. Once you start yelling and screaming you may as well forget it…nasty things will be said that are hard to take back.

Just my advice. And good luck…it’s never easy breaking from manipulative parents.

Yikes! And I thought my mom was bad. I can’t believe they tried to drag you away from work! I seem to recall your mentioning your parents were very traditional (please correct me if I’m wrong). Although my mom told me that if I got my masters, I’d have “too much education to be marriageable,” she’s never tried anything like that.

I’m glad you were able to get through to your folks. I don’t think it’ll be too bad with Mom - I’ve been correcting a lot of things this year, so I’ve been practicing. :slight_smile: By correcting, I mean, when they come up, calmly pointing out things that I don’t like (i.e., “I’m not sure what you’re trying to achieve, but calling me weak and milquetoast is probably not going to help you reach whatever goals you have. It’s actually quite insulting, and if you don’t stop, I see no reason for this conversation to continue.”).

Anyway, I’d really like to not dread and loathe my birthday for once. I don’t mind the cooking and stuff, it’s the snide comments that get me. Mom has reached a point where she thinks she’s somehow exempt from politeness because she’s old. She’s not old - she’s only 60 - and I don’t recall having ever learned that there’s a cut-off age for politeness.

No, actually I don’t expect I’ll back down. I’ve gotten to the point where her crying absolutely disgusts me, and I feel no sympathy for her when she starts bawling because it’s usually caused by a fairly cold, calculated attempt to win me over to her side. While I certainly don’t hate her (like you said, she’s my mom), when she begins crying, I feel nothing but disgust. The only thing that has kept me from saying anything in the past was that it would take way too much time to calm her down afterwards. I have no such qualms this year. But if you still don’t believe me, I’d be happy to let you know when I do it.

Out of curiosity, why would you tell me what my actions will be? You don’t know me, so why do you think you know what the outcome will be? I’m not asking that out of rancor, it just amazes me when people presume to tell me what my actions will be when they’ve never even met me. I don’t understand why anyone would do that.

My parents, I love them dearly, 500 miles away :frowning:

First mrAru and I had our wedding all planned, being impoverished [navy e3, me working as a minimum wage security hominid for Wackenhut] we bought a bunch of booze and food, found a justice of the peace and invited the guys off the boat over for a party. We sent an invitation to my parents, timing it to arrive friday morning they were there [from Rochester NY to Virginia Beach] that evening. Mother dearest immediately started to try to convince me to postpone it and get a church or hall, she was on the phone to the local VFW and American legion at the time, showed up with a wedding cake [2 tier] and a wedding dress=\ The wedding was the next afternoon. The only modification that made its way into the party ws the wedding cake.

Another time, we had been working on some house renovation and the place was torn up, so I told them that when they came down to visit, we would meet them at the hotel and get the days started. Bright and early the first day they were there they were at the doorstep. I calmly grabbed my bailout bag, walked to the car ignoring them and drove off and spent 3 very nice days alone in Williamsburg.

She was upset I was divorcing the first mrAru, and I told her that if she kept prying into my personal life I would not bother telling her where current mrAru and I were moving to. She finally stopped trying to manipulate me, but it took a lot of stubornness on my part=\

Dude I’m sorry it’s not that I am trying to predict what you will do it’s just that I have seen people in similar situations before.
You know how you get all fired up to say something or do something and when it comes time nerves take over. I’m just saying I have seen alot of people do this including myself. START apologizes for seeming like I was judging your future actions wiuthout knowing you. Hmmm or maybe we do know each other do ya know any kids that are caucasian and black with green eyes?

Eh, don’t worry about it. I can understand your thoughts - God knows how many times I’ve gotten all ready to say something only to think, “Well, maybe I’d just better shut up and she’ll go away.” But this is something I HAVE to take care of. She’s not as bad as many other people’s parents, but it bothers me, and I won’t like myself as much if I don’t do something.

My parents are flat out remembering my birthday.