My mother is (kinda) always right.

My mother has always said the most important thing about being in a relationship is to make sure that the man loves me more than I love him. She also said that he should have a stable career, not have a nasty temperament and he shouldn’t be a mummy’s boy amongst other things but those are secondary topics.

I used to object vehemently because I’m the kind of person who is more than willing to give than receive. Spineless jellyfish of a woman.

I said used to because it just dawned on me recently how lucky it is to be showered with love. I just attended a bbq couple of days back (Happy 21st Birthday baby sis!) when that revelation hit me in the face like a truck.

In all my 28+++ years, I’ve never gone near a bbq pit. And it’s because I didn’t have to. Blessed I am. My parents took care of my hunger when I was young, therefore I’m not surprised by that.

When I was a teenager and morphed into an adult however, I still kept on being served. From my teen years, there was always one person who was always looking after me. And that person is A, who had been friends with me since I was 13. I never went hungry. Food would always magically appear like a scene out of Harry Potter and all I had to do was to make sure I didn’t have any morsels stuck in between my teeth.

Notice the had. If you’ve been reading my earlier posts, you would have known I’ve let the friendship lapse for various reasons. And that’s when I realised what my mother meant. You (and you and you) who have been following my lackluster life will also know about my fair share of crappy men.

My mother is wise. It really is better to receive than give. At least it’s less tiring. I was discussing this with my bestie and she told me to revive the friendship. But how could I?

I may have a filthy mouth and have evil thoughts at times but I also will not take advantage of others like that. More importantly, I treasure my freedom too much.

Being friends with A was tiring. It was like being in a relationship. He wanted to control my every move, know who I was out with (and what time I would be home) and got jealous of every man (with the exception of my father and brother) who came within a three metre radius of me. He also needed a lot of attention which I didn’t have the time nor energy to give. In summary, he’s a possessive control freak.

Thinking back on it gives me the heebie jeebies. Yes, it’s nice to have someone at your beck and call and not having to lift a finger, but I don’t need a servant. Neither do I want to be chained to the kitchen table. And don’t you know sitting on one’s ass all day makes you fat?

My mother may be right but so am I. I just want balance. Why can’t both of us (referring to no man in particular) give and take equally? I like receiving as much as giving. But I know how unfair this cruel world can be. Until I find my equilibrium, let me do what the rest of you tell me to stop doing. Oh X………

Listen to your mothers.



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