Mother's approval

I've known my mother, well, for all of my life. I looked up to her, tried to mimic her moves, tried to be something she would be proud of. All through school I tried to get the best grades I could, I did most of my work alone, and taught myself without her ever having to help me. I thought this would make her proud of me because I didn't need any help. She wouldn't focus on me and would focus on more stuff that seemed relevant. She seemed to be proud and would tell all of her staffers and coworkers that I had gotten honor roll, or 14 points in last nights game, or some other achievement that seems so trivial now.

Anyway.

I begged for her approval and the one thing she always told me would be to "Never have a man be a priority in life". To me it was another way to prove that I could be everything that she wanted me to be. I dated around, but I was always looking for something better. The guys that I dated weren't going anywhere and I knew that, which made it easier for me to not fall for them like I could have. My father always told me I was a loving child, but my mother always reminded me that I needed to stay focused and be a woman who didn't need a man. "They were the extra in life." They were not something that needed to be a one and only.

High school came and went, that summer I took summer classes to get a jump start on my college degree. I would be going to the best business school in the state and would eventually take over my mother's business in our small town. I was everything she wanted me to be in high school. I was on homecoming court, a decent athlete, president of our schools marketing club, and had even competed in business classes that sent me on the national level. I was going to school in the summer and other than spending time with my friends, I was at home. I didn't focus on guys because I wasn't suppose to find "true love" until I was a junior or senior in college. When I had my life together and was poised for the hostile takeover of my moms company.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my mother, and my family. However, they could find ways to make me submissive to them. My mom's disaproval could gut me like a fish in seconds, and although my father was usually the one to make me feel better about how harsh my mother could be, he dished his own form of scrutiny. He would constantly make me feel that I had to work harder so that I wouldn't have to deal with my mother. It still hurt me that I would have to find ways to better myself when I liked myself just fine.