My Stalker

I wasn't ready to talk about it before now.  No one wants to be stalked.  Much less to talk about it.  Every move watched.  Close.  Then closer.  That's when you start to notice things out of place or missing altogether.  Wondering what they'll do next.  While trying desperately not to engage the pursuer and make the situation worse.    I know because I have a 13 year old daughter.

Oh she pretends to ignore me, especially when she's with her friends.  But, I know her dismissive attitude masks her true feelings of disdain, curiosity, judgement, wonder and ultimately embarrassment.  I know this because I was once a 13 year old girl myself and I had all these feelings towards my own mom.

I felt perfectly entitled to go through all her things, make her life difficult, take a few bucks from her wallet without asking and analyze her every move, simply because she was my mom.  Thus, not even human, but both subhuman and superhuman at the same time.

It's not our fault really.  We're females, born to over analyze and compare ourselves to every other woman on the planet.  It's what we do.  And we're damn good at it.   But, there's a whole different standard with a mother-daughter relationship.  And it's an impossible double standard.  I'll never be enough while simultaneously being too much.  If not in this way, then in that one.

It's only natural that one day the stalker becomes the stalked.  Because of the circle of life and all.  So, I'll continue to hug her when we're home if she'll allow me to and hold her at an arm's length when we're in public.  I'll let her criticize my outfit knowing it will mysteriously disappear from my closet the next day.  But most of all, I'm going to stop being so hard on myself, for her sake.  Knowing she emulates what she sees me do.

 Because of the circle of life and all.