I realized today, on Christmas day, that I hate my mother. I had said it before, but always dismissed such a strong feeling because I had nothing to back it up with; I had no reason. But today it came to me, and when I think about it, I believe it is justification for all of the spite I feel. I had always thought my mother to be a moody person because she would switch between the gears of upbeat and kind to snappy and unpleasant so easily. Today over turkey dinner (of which I had none since I stopped eating meat in September), anything I said lightheartedly or as a jest was quickly yelled at by her, yet when my younger brother of 16 would say something she would be entirely cordial. I realized that this was not moodiness, no. It had to do with me as a person; me as a child. It was at that moment over Christmas dinner with my family that I realized I was not loved. Not to say I did not receive any love, but nonetheless it was not complete love. I realized that to my mother I was a disappointment. Surely though this is not the sense most would use in such a circumstance: I graduated top of my highschool class last June, am doing surprisingly well in University so far, have never been pregnant, never done drugs.. the list goes on. As far as children go, most people would tell my mother that she was lucky. To that she would smile and agree, but inside part of her cannot fully accept such a statement. This is because she loves a child that is not me. She loves the child, not the person that I am. You must understand how sheltered and restricted I have been in comparison to my peers in order to entirely see my side of this.. but the key part of this little story is that my mother does not love me as an adult. I am not able to have responsibility over myself yet because she cannot trust the stranger in front of her that she does not love. She looks at me and sees a disappointment - not because of anything in particular that I've done on my own will, no, she has forgiven any mistakes I have made, but rather because I have grown up. So thus I am stuck in a place of misery for I am being punished for something that I had no control over. Inside, part of me wants to confront her, to yell to her face all these things I feel. I want so badly to tell her that the reason I went to school 7 hours away was to get away from her. I want to let her know just how much she has made me hate her, yet I know that this will not solve or help anything. I don't know what to do in such a situation though.. I feel like I should just give up most of the time. It makes me miserable though, and she may think it will make her happy if I conform to her ideals, but in reality I do believe that seeing me in misery will torment her. Perhaps when she sees that what she is doing causes me so much pain she will understand. For now though I choose to escape, to go back to school where I do not need to see her condescending glares or hear her unapproving tone. I will go back to a place where I can actually be myself.