I recently came across a spoken word poetry by Sabrina Benaim called Explaining My Depression to My Mother and it inspired me to write this post. It’s hard confessing feelings and emotions to someone close but in my case … My mother. I don’t want to be like my mom, I’m not her and I’m not planning to be. I want to be different, I don’t want to raise my children same way I was raised. It sounds bad as I’m typing this but I don’t agree with some parenting ways my mother used on me and my siblings, and that’s okay because I don’t think we are wired to grow up exactly like our parents.
Mom doesn’t believe in depression and anxiety, or most of the mental health issues. She believes its related to religion, if you are close to god then you won’t be depressed and I don’t agree with that. I don’t blame her, I mean they’ve been raised this way and their era has been nurturing such closed mind mentality. When I was going through postpartum depression, I didn’t talk about it with my family but more with my friends who has same mentality as me and understands these struggles.
I want to be as understanding as I wished my mother to be. I had a long super dark hair till I reached college because my mother didn’t allow me to dye or cut it, let alone just a small trim. I hated it because it was really hard to maintain, it was so long that it reached under my butt. I started trimming it on my own without telling her obviously but I did get caught few times until one day I chopped off all of my hair, and she gave me a look I’ll never forget, like she’s disappointed in me and it made me feel horrible. It didn’t really last long as I tried to make her understand that it’s who I am, I don’t like having dark long hair. She still gives me those looks whenever I dye my hair and repeats about how my hair was so beautiful and long, now it’s ruined and it’s too damaged.
God Knows how much I love my mother and I know I can’t live without her but I don’t want to be like her, I am who I am.