Sweet Mother of Mine

Of the iconic "easy" things to do such as eating pie, being blind to your mother's flaws – be it a minor issue or something as blatant as being borderline abusive – may even be easier. So the first time your significant other comes up to you and says something along the lines of "Your mother hates me and wants me to fall off the face of earth," you might find it a bit too easy to brush off.

After the first few incidents (read: trauma for the significant other), you don't get down to the gritty little details of the things you "subconsciously" do to manage surviving in the same household for years. Instead you smile and tell your significant other to "just be nicer to ma."

Subdued by your irresistible smile, you might find your significant other convinced to pull of something special for your mother like maybe labour all day for her birthday. For a while you watch them together with no sign of anything obnoxious or hurtful – you sigh, stretch and crawl into a hole of self-satisfaction. The shadow of doubt that your own mother is playing the part of bogeyman in your relationship does not linger for too long.

First you notice the sly comments; so sneaky that you wouldn't even catch it unless your beloved looks at you wincing like his or her face is on fire. It starts with the "subtle" hints at how some other person (more often than not the ex) would have done this or that better. You find yourself between a rock and a hard place – you aren't able to confront Mommy Dearest because of her said subtlety and you can't point out the existence of your metaphorical spine to your significant other.

Once you are forced to "open your eyes," it becomes uncomfortably hard to shut yourself away from the circumstances. After the comments, you notice the demeaning looks directed towards your dearest, the barked out orders as if he/she were your mother's waiter at a low-end restaurant, and the general tone of disgust, the same one that you had unwittingly grown too accustomed to even notice.   

Your significant other, if he/she still is such afterward, deserves hugs and/or gifts. Lots of hugs and/or gifts. Meanwhile as they heal, or at least try to, you find yourself shivering at the thought of having to go over this with your delightful mother who brewed enough to stir this dread toward an actual conversation.

Despite hoping for any chance that your little soul might be spared of the talk with your mother, you find yourself awkwardly standing behind her while she cooks or cleans and walking away only to retry a minute later. After pinning a still awkward but okay timing, you bring up the topic of your significant other. Terror and genuine fear seeps in as you watch your mother's pupils widen dramatically.

As the general script goes, it starts from "It's because I care about you" to a detailed breakdown of everything (attitude, hair, skin, nails, the freckle under his/her left forearm which you never even noticed, you name it) that is wrong about your now apparently not-so-better half and the opposite gender altogether. Now, you do realise you should probably say something, anything, in defence of your significant other, but you are forced-fed the belief that it was out of a good-natured "motherly instinct".

The only saving grace is that the next time you hear the panicky voice of your partner asking you "have you talked to her yet?" you can finally answer with an affirmative. How the conversation progressed is not particularly pleasant, but can you really expect anything otherwise? 

Mommy Bear has her fierce side, especially when it's regarding your potential life partner. Your entire life is going to be on an endless repeat of the aforementioned case because, don't be silly, mothers don't tire, ever. Ma sure does know best.