Friday, March 12, 2010

I wish I had a mom.

I mean, I do, I just wish I had the kind that you call up and tell your troubles to, and she listens and understands and isn't afraid of what you're facing, doesn't run away or hang up when you're in distress, but comforts you somehow, and doesn't judge or blame you, or sound insincere when she sympathizes. Someone I could confide in who wouldn't turn around and tell others my secrets, or blurt them out in public in embarrassing and inappropriate moments. I wish I had a mom like me. But I don't. The mom I have would not be happy to know what I think of her, and how I see our relationship but I don't think she'd deny it, not anymore. At least that's a kind of progress.

Do I wish I had a son like me?


  1. Me too.

    I've always thought there must be a way for us to form a sort of co-op of the unmothered to provide that for each other.

    It has developed in my life through some of the connections I have made with other women - some older, a few younger.

    Honestly, it has been a lifesaver - those connections.


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