“What do you mean, I didn’t?” her voice came out soft and slow.
“You never gave me any emotional support. All you did was shower me with physical luxuries. I don’t want those! I want to be free, not caged up in a palace-like environment. I want to go out, explore, meet new people, see new things!”
“I did! I let you go out for camps, I let you go out with your friends. Did I stop you? I didn’t!” her tone was filled with hurt, as if I had wrongly accused her of something; again, the guilt treatment.
That’s what makes me puke blood when talking to her. She plays politics. She only takes in information that puts her at an advantage. She doesn’t genuinely care about anyone else, only as her pawns.
“Yes you did, BUT!” I stopped her with that word cause I bet she was going to come up with something to rebut me with,
“Not directly, no. Indirectly, yes. You CONTROL my social circle. You ALWAYS chase those away whom you KNOW you aren’t able to control. You ONLY allow me to hang out with those whom YOU can MANIPULATE and CONTROL. If they are too street smart, you would not let me anywhere near them.”
It probably wasn’t much, but I could detect a second or two of hesitation. That was probably her trying to find some ways to divert the topic away.
“It was for your own good! You wouldn’t understand until you’re a mother!”
“What own good?” I countered, “If you chase away smokers, drug dealers, clubbers, drinkers, law-breakers or the likes, I wouldn’t fight against you. Maybe during my rebellious teen stage but not now when I’m almost a full-fledged adult and can think! You chase away friends of mine simply because their social status are not as high as yours; or they just don’t match up to your ridiculous screwed up expectations. Oh and I still remember you forbidding me from playing with two male friends of mine, simply because you THOUGHT their mother is a bitch.”
“That women was a slut!” Ahh, I hit a nerve.
“Are you blind? Can’t you see how she’s always using her body to seduce men?! Always wearing tight short-shorts, show her privates, so revealing!” I took a deep breath and asked,
“So? I wear sleeveless tops, short-shorts and tight tees too. If she’s a slut, doesn’t that make me one as well? And doesn’t that make you the mother of a slut?”
She shut up.
Well, temporarily at least.