Mothers. Everytime I think about my mother, I associate her with criticism, expectations, and imperfections.

     Sad? I know.

Most of my life, I've been forced to conform to my mother's demands. I've been told I'm not good enough because I'm lazy, stupid, and uncaring.

     It's the reason my dad didn't want me.

     She says things that aim at the heart, tearing it bit by bit. Let me tell you, there is no other feeling comparable to worthlessness.

     The truth is, I'm not any of the traits that my mother tells me I am. The reality is I'm tired. Tired of my mother relentless pestering and of her choosing who I want to be.

     I don't want to go to that high school?

     If you don't go there, you'll become homeless.

     A bad grade?

     I won't sign it.

     I want to go to afterschool?

     It's not going to help you.

     Talking about my friends?

     They won't be there when you need them most.

     She's every insecurity personified.

 Lately, I've been realizing how double sided she can be. One minute, she's caring and she's lashing out the next.

To be honest, I feel restrained. I have no say in which direction I want to go because I don't know what I want. My goals have been overshadowed by her for years, shackling my true desires until they disintegrate.

I know she wants the best because of her turbulent past but sometimes, I feel the best is letting me live my life as I want it to be.

Without any input.