To my mother, I’m worse than the devil himself! I don’t know what to do anymore!
My name is John, and I want to share a story that’s tearing me apart. It’s about how my mother has turned my life into a never-ending nightmare I can’t escape. I’m not saying she’s the only mother like this in the world, but, for heaven’s sake, I’m at my wit’s end! Why can’t she understand I’m 23 years old, an adult who wants to decide how to live my life without her endless instructions and demands? Her control is suffocating, like a noose around my neck.
A Mother Who Won’t Let Me Breathe
I sit here writing this as if shouting into the void because I can’t take it anymore. My girlfriend Lily openly jokes about it now. When I go shopping, my mother tags along like some overseer and starts her usual rant: “This is junk, John, throw it away! That’s for some floozies! You’ll look ridiculous, people will laugh!” In the end, I come home with some jacket or scarf she picked, fit for my grandmother! I feel like her puppet, and she doesn’t even see how much this frustrates me.
Lily doesn’t know where to hide her laughter when she visits me in Birmingham. My mother grabs Lily by the hand and starts her tirade: “Tell him, Lily, that he looks like a scarecrow in those skinny jeans! Make him stop going out with his shirt untucked like some vagabond! Why do you tolerate him wearing makeup like some girl off the street? And how do you breathe in that cigarette smoke when you don’t even smoke?” This is my own mother, people! She spouts such nonsense, I clench my fists in anger!
One day, she really crossed the line. I was getting ready to visit Lily’s parents for the first time—a big moment. I bought new trainers and dressed to impress. But my mother decided I should wear some ridiculous sweater she insisted on. I said “no,” and after I showered, my favorite jeans—the ones I love—were on the floor, cut into shreds! She stood there with scissors, not even blinking. I yelled, “Get out!” but she stayed, staring at me with that cold, unyielding look, as if I were her enemy.
What to Do?
I don’t know what to do, friends. This woman doesn’t understand that I’m not a kid anymore. I have a job—not in an office with a tie, but on a construction site in Birmingham, among guys who swear and drink, but I earn my own money! I could move out tomorrow, even without Lily. I earn enough for rent, clothes, cigarettes—everything I need. But she thinks I should quit because, according to her, I’m spending time with “working-class men.” She wants me to enroll in college this summer, already picking out a major, but I refuse to listen! If I study, it will be when I decide and in a field I choose.
I would have slammed the door and left long ago if not for my father. He’s the only sane person in this house. Calm, kind, he’s always understood me. If I leave, my mother will turn all her focus on him, and he’ll crumble. She already says I’m worse than the devil—a thankless, rebellious ruin. And what will happen to him when I leave? She’ll crush him, and that thought tears me apart. He doesn’t deserve this fate, but I can’t keep living in this hell.
My Life in a Vice
Every day, I feel her grip tighten around me. She invades everything—my clothes, my relationships, my habits. Even when I’m with Lily, I can’t relax—what if my mother calls or bursts in with another berating? I’m starting to hate her, though somewhere deep down, I still love her—she’s my mother, how can I escape that? Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault. Am I too harsh, too stubborn? But then I remember her words, her actions—and I know it’s her crossing the line.
Friends say, “Forget everything and leave.” But I can’t abandon my father to her wrath. I’m trapped, torn between duty and the desire to live my own life. She paints me as a monster, and all I want is to be myself. I’m exhausted from her constant commands and control. To her, I’m worse than the devil, and to me, she’s a wall I can’t break through.
What would you do in my place? How would you escape such a prison? I write this because I have no one to talk to—neither friends nor Lily fully understand. I need your advice, your outsider’s perspective. I want freedom, I want to breathe, but I don’t know how to break free. Can you help me find a way out of this nightmare? I’m on the edge, and I fear one day I just won’t cope.
