#Controlling mother

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 3 | Skin Deep Scars

summary: you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

warnings: ANGST, !parental abuse!, arguing (again ik), family issues, swearing, manipulation, controlling mother figure, !burning skin!, slight fighting, crying, !mentions of childhood trauma! And this contains sensitive topics for many (even me) so please I advice to read this with caution and knowingly what you’re consuming.

authors note: day 3 is behind us now, thank yall so much for all of the love on the past fics I seriously rlly appreciate it. Yall can drop some ideas for future days and fics outside of this in my inbox and I’ll be happy to write them, I don’t have my computer with me rn so I’ll make the gradient text when I’m at my computer again, hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

Escalated screams and yells fill the large space of the room, making my ears want to fall off as foul words continue to fall from my mother’s mouth. It’s not the first time my mother has yelled at me for the most stupidest bullshit ever known to mankind and this is one of them, somehow it never turned psychical between us which could be a shocker for some of the others considering how loud she is screaming and shouting that you would think she’d hit me by now or at least threaten to.

“You are bringing such shame to this family! It’s unacceptable!” She shouts, her face contoured with pure anger. I might as well see smoke coming out of her ears by now, rolling my eyes as I feel my own anger rise inside of me at how ridiculous she is being right now. “I bring shame? What about you sleeping around behind dad’s back, huh?” I argue back, not letting her bring me down and standing my ground. She gasps dramatically as if I insulted her whole bloodline, pressing her hand to her chest to make her seem more like a victim.

“Don’t you dare speak of that! This isn’t about my mistakes, it’s about yours!” She attempts to defend her name but fails miserably, thinking if she raises her voice higher than me she’ll have the high ground and take the upper hand in this argument. “You’re the one that’s hanging out with that street rat and even dare to invite him to this house!” My blood boils to high temperatures at her insult targeted towards Chris, well she isn’t very fond of him and his lifestyle or he of how she treats me from all of the stories I’ve previously told him.

Summarizing that thought, their hatred is mutual towards themselves. “Don’t bring him into this, he has nothing to do with this! It was one lower grade, mom!” I yell defensively, the level of my irritation rising with each second of just breathing in the tense air in the room. “That he caused by the influence he has on you! I just want the best for you, honey.” She tries to twist her tone into a softer one but I can feel the fakeness radiating off it the minute it comes past her lips, how pathetic.

“You aren’t convincing anyone with that fake tone, that’s for sure.” I state annoyingly as she attempts to move closer to me but when she sees me backing away she just gives up with trying to convince me into doing anything she wants with the same old method and decides on a newly invented one. “Fine, maybe I wont convince you at least but your father is pretty gullible and he’ll do anything I ask him to do. Even if i feed him a couple lies involving you and that little skank.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not believing her words at first until she shoots me a specific look which informs me she isn’t playing around, raising her eyebrow and slightly dipping her chin just always has her whole bitchy personality written all over her face in that moment. My face normally would drop in color but at this point I didn’t care, she brought Chris into this who has nothing to do with this and shouldn’t be assumed as the cause of my lower grade. It was one of the hardest exams this semester and even when I studied harder than ever and got the highest grade in my class, she still doesn’t appreciate my hard work.

My head decides its the perfect time to bring up the first time I got a lower grade, being only at the age as young as seven she was already pressuring me into being perfect and didn’t even allow me to have a normal childhood only filling me with more work and mental pressure I often was too tired to do anything the next morning after studying all night in hopes to attempt to please my mother but no matter what I did, she never fully appreciated it and always found something bad to point out.

Start of Flashback

I excitedly run into the living room with my test clutched in my head, my dress flowing in the slight breeze coming from the window. A proud smile spread on my face as I reach the living room where mommy resided in sitting on the couch, holding up my paper for her vision to see the teachers red mark saying ‘79/100’ in the corner of the paper. “Look mommy, my teacher said I got the highest grade in my class on the test!” I exclaim proudly, waiting for my applause but was met with silence. Tilting my head to the side to glance at my mommy confused on why she is quiet but she had only a disgusted and an unimpressed look shadowing her face.

She notices my confused expression and finally speaks, turning her head away from me and back at the tv “Honey, that’s not good enough for this family. Study harder next time.” She states without any sympathy in her voice as she goes back to her activity like nothing happened, my eyes slightly start to water. Why am I not good enough for mommy? Why isn’t mommy proud of me and saying nice words like my teacher was? My arms drop down to my sides with the paper still clutched in my small arms.

“What do you mean, mommy?” I ask curiously, my voice becoming slight wobbly as shaky breaths enter an exit past my lips. “My teacher said I did great and even gave me a lollipop!” I add, now my sadness being evident and that’s when mommy looked at me and sees me upset. “Oh baby, you know what I told you about eating too much sweets. And a 76 isn’t high enough for the reputation our family has.” She says in a reassuring voice, seeming as if she wanted the best for me and me being the gullible and innocent child, not realizing she’s manipulating me into doing whatever her heart desired and shaping me into a perfect little toy to play in her game.

“I just want the best for you honey and you know that, I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.” She calmly assured in a soft tone, she walks over to me and wipes my tear-stained cheek with her thumb and looks at me with fake sympathy mixed with fake remorse. “Now go to your room and study for the next test, mommy has to go attend to some things, okay?” I nod my head yes and ran off into my room, the paper flying out of my hand and landing in the floor. My body immediately jumping onto my bed and bury my face into the nearby pillow as I clutch my favorite stuffed animal to my chest…

End of Flashback

I remember crying the rest of the night and thought it was normal and everyone’s mother was pressuring them into being better than every other kid and always perfect to upkeep the family’s ‘perfect’ reputation. Now that I’ve grown up and caught onto my mother’s manipulative acts, letting me have the upper hand in some regards. “You’re pure goddamn evil, I can’t believe you’re trying to scare me with dad out of all people.” I huff, feeling my body become more tense by the second before adding. “Better than one of the guys you cheated on dad with.” After the words leave my mouth, she immediately darts towards me and gets impossibly closer to my face. Glaring at me as if she wanted to strangle the shit out of me.

“I said, don’t you dare bring that into this situation, young lady!” She warns, her voice completely shifting from fake sympathy to rage and evilness. One of her hands raises and she sticks out her finger, getting it in my face as if to try and scare me further but I only laugh in her face. “One more word out of your mouth and I make one call to your father, singing like a bird to him about all of the things you’ve said to your own mother.” She wipes imaginary tears off from under her eyes, pretending to be upset and hurt as if she’s the victim here. “You’re such an ungrateful brat, I’m surprised we haven’t kicked you out the house yet. You always disappoint us and bring total shame to the family.”

An evil laugh rumbles in her throat, I don’t see her as a loving mother I thought I had. No, I see her as the worst and most controlling mother ever known to mankind and I feel ashamed being in the proximity of her and letting her walk all over me like a doormat. She takes a few steps back and finally puts some distance between our bodies, I sharply inhale the tense air surrounding us as the following words fall from her mouth that I was just waiting for her to speak.

“I regret you were even born, more with every passing minute. Me and your father never wanted a girl, but a boy and at one point were debating to put you in an orphanage or give you away, another decision I regret making.”

Before my mother could say another word, I deliver a slap across her face and throw the words out of her mouth. She looks up at me, completely livid and fet up with this little cat fight between us. “That’s it, you’re getting punished hardly this time.” She angrily exclaims and roughly grasps my arm, dragging me into the kitchen by pure mad force. I try to escape her vice grip but it only makes it tighter, the feeling of pain and a bruise coming in spreads across my whole body as I see her walking towards the stove.

I start to get more desperate to escape, almost beginning to scream for her to stop and don’t do what I know she’s about to do. She did it before when I talked back to her ever and looks like today her strings popped too much, we get to the stove and she ticks it on, the flame blooming to life as she forces my arm above it. “Please, mom dont do this…” I weakly plead as the burning sensation starts to hit my skin, spreading across my whole arm. I cry out in pain and pleads for her to stop, quiet curses falling from my lips as she only glances at me sternly. Tears prick my eyes and burn down my cheeks, she continues to hold my arm over the flames and brings it closer.

My body starts squiring around, my pleads getting more and more desperate as more tears fall from my eyes. “Stop! Please, mom I’m begging you stop!” Shaky breaths fill the air and accompany the growing cries and pleads to my mother. “Stop moving around, you brat! Are you going to still be disobedient towards me now?” She asks mockingly as I think she’s going to burn my skin off, someone pushes her off me and I immediately fall to the ground in pure agony. The uncontrollable cries continuing to fall from my mouth, my eyes landing on the severe burn mark left behind on my arm, my eyes start to burn themselves from the amount of tears filling them at once

“What in the actual fuck is happening here?” I hear a familiar voice yell out as I don’t think about who it could be until they kneel down next to me and I realize it’s Chris, I forgot I invited him over today. I can’t believe he’s seeing me in this state right now, he glances at my arm and immediately grasps it gently into his hands. “Jesus Christ, we need to get you some serious help, cmon we gotta go to the hospital.” He calls out and helps me get up and stand on my feet, rushing me out of the house and looking around for something to quickly get me where I severely need to be right now. “You got a private driver here somewhere?” He questions and I nod negatively, there aren’t any available unless you ask for one beforehand.

‘Fuck, umm- okay then let’s just take.. your car!” He exclaims nervously, pointing towards one of the cars in the driveway. Quickly running over to it and rushing me inside of it, getting into the drivers seat and trying to start the car. When he finally gets a hang of the functioning of the car he quickly presses down on the gas and speeds out of the driveway and towards the hospital…

Guestlist!

| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |

[faeriesinthedell]

Being the daughter of a controlling mother is so weird, especially when your mother was a product of the same environment. It's like: I don't know how to say no because when I say no to you, nothing changes. I don't know how to assert myself without feeling like I'm being an inconvenience or that I'm risking making someone angry. I don't know how to suggest my opinion because I'm so used to defaulting to a people pleasing option that even when someone enthusiastically seeks my opinion, I still "read the room" the choose the option that will make everyone happy. I don't pursue many hobbies because I know you don't like messes and hobbies make mess. I leave projects half finished because I'm so used to having to throw everything in a drawer or otherwise "clean" it before your cleaning anxiety kicks in and we all have to clean the house for you. I listen to your stories about how you went on wild adventures as a teenager and hid things from your own mother, while I'm terrified of doing anything to disappoint you (not because you would punish me, but because I have such an aversion to upsetting people). I have almost no friends, I do nothing but work and go to college, and I sit at home online during all my free time because I'm not "allowed" to drive very far, and who really wants to hang out at the same 4 places with me?? You drove around town as a teen and left home at 18 and I'm almost 21 and not even allowed to drive half an hour to the next biggest town. No one wants to hang out with me because they know how you are and they know the only options are my house or the local fast food place, because I'm not allowed to drive further. You don't trust me to do things on my own but it's suddenly okay if I have a "chaperone" with me. You were skydiving at my age, but it's not "safe" for me to walk around the woods by myself. People offer to take me places out of pity but I decline because I'm almost positive that they don't really want my company, and they only offer because they must feel bad because I don't experience much.

You once explained to me that the reason you control everything and everyone (in your words) is because you had no control over your life when you were younger, so now you have this need to control everything. You don't realize that you're setting me up for the same position, or maybe you do realize but you can't stop yourself. I'm terrified that I'm going to do the same thing to my own daughters. I don't want this for them, and I don't want it for me.

When that little girl walked a few yards to her house after my grandma's funeral, my instinctual response was to panic and think "No! She can't do that!! She'll get hurt!!"

I didn't want to think that. It wasn't my thought, it was yours.

I love you so much, but I don't want to become you. I can't ever tell you this, because it would break you.

I'm the only daughter, the only child. I have to be good, I have to make you happy. I can't be independent because it won't make you happy, but I can't live my life with the independence level of an 8 year old. I see 12 year olds with more personal freedom than me. They're allowed to wander town as long as they keep in touch with their parents and they keep a level head. I'm not even allowed that, and I certainly wasn't at that age.

I do things that I don't want to in order to make people happy. I scold myself for having too many wants because I feel like it's selfish. It's selfish to write this. It's selfish to not want to be like you, because it would hurt you and that's wrong of me.

I can't ever tell you about any of this, because it would be the nail in the coffin for us. You think I hate you, and this would only confirm it for you. I don't hate you. I love you, but I hate the way you do some things. A person and their actions are two separate things.

You're so headstrong, and so am I, but only to you. It's funny. I defy you so much and make no headway, but I'm so submissive to everyone else to the point of putting on false personas to please a crowd. I think I defy and argue my side because if I don't, then I'd never have any opinion at all. I argue and fight because if I don't then that means my real thoughts are never voiced. You think I fight because I hate you, but I love you. You're my mother and I'm your daughter and I love you. I'm just really bad at showing it, I guess.

I won't control my daughters the way that I've been controlled.

[yeh-mera-deewanapan-hai]

This is a RANT

My mind decided to remind me that talking about vulnerable topics is not equal to being vulnerable and I am beyond sad that I am not even comfortable being vulnerable in my own room. Gotta hide out in the washroom for hours to even feel like a human being. *scoff*

Why am I so jealous and envious of other people living my dreams while I'm so insecure of my own self? It's not even like I'm dreaming of something big or extraordinary! I just wanna be able to go somewhere alone, to wear clothes of my choosing, to create simple memories with friends I don't have, to not feel paranoid every time I'm beginning to get close to someone. Is it too much to ask? Is it too much to ask for when I JUST wanna exist peacefully?

I look at other people's Instagram feed and yeah, it might all be fake but I don't even have the freedom to fake anything. I look at my past friends memories through their social media and I am not there. I can bet that I'm not even on their minds. I was not allowed the freedom to make memories with anyone. Not even alone! I look at other people and feel jealous as fuck of their ability to just exist as themselves.

It is hard being comfortable in your own body when your own mother is teaching you to be ashamed of it. I can't wear tank tops, can't wear anything above my knees, wide necklines are a no-no, anything body fitting is vulgar, jeans and tops that actually fit me are cheap so go cover your chest with a stole and wear tops that go below your hips!!

I can't do anything really... I can't go to the grocery store near our house alone but my brother who is 7 years younger than me can, I couldn't go to any of my past school trips, can't go somewhere alone with my own father without my phone ringing 5 times an hour, can't hug my younger brother or my father or my friends that I had and not even my own mother because she's uncomfortable with touching anyone but does that mean that I have to sacrifice my own comfort because she was uncomfortable?

I hate being called cheap and vulgar and characterless and a near prostitute because I mentioned liking something fashion related that does not go with her idea of modesty. I despise the fact that I always end up crying when I argue with her because I am more sad than angry at her choice to control every single aspect of my life.

I can't ever imagine being free of her, of her paranoia that instilled deep trust issues in me, of her voice hating my clothes and my hair and my makeup and my art and my music taste and my laugh and every single one of my little quirks that I see being adored in media but never in me.

You all must feel like she is like a monster but that is not true because while yeah, she made me feel bad about a lot of stuff, she also made me feel good a lot too! This is actually the first time I ever even hinted at hating her, let alone writing a whole rant on tumblr for strangers to read. She loves me in her own way, too much and obsessive and I know that just because her intentions are good doesn't mean the results her actions cause will be good too. I want to love her from afar.

[tatis9]

Anyone that says 'money doesn't matter' probably don't know the struggle of being economically dependent and how that situation can create or deepen hurtful power relationships and make you more vulnerable to abusive behaviors. Money does matter, money is a complete game-changer.

[introverted-highpriestess444]

Even at the age that I'm at, she still feels the need to control my life.

[eggy0lk00]

A fun fact about me is that my mom used to decide how my hair was, every single day, for like an embarrassingly long time. So, now, at the big age of 23, I am learning how to style, braid, straighten, curl and even dye my own hair (lol)

[darthakurei]

My punishments as a kid

My previous post just reminded me to write down what possibly caused the fucked up army general side of my personality. I was raised in a strict household with a family my boyfriend just calls council of imperial officers lol.

Just a few examples of my punishments if I "misbehaved" as a kid which really could mean anything but usually it meant mom was having a bad day: -standing in the corner facing the wall -ass whooping with leather belt -slap on the face/hit on head -being grounded for literally no reason -they'd give pieces of my dog statue collection to my little brother who destroyed them and I had to watch it -making me watch as my mother let my guinea pigs go near the river -letting my brother torture my puppy by throwing him around -my father kicked my puppy in the face once and when I called him out on it I was threatened with a good ol' slap

Also honorable mentions are:

Whenever my mom decided I was lazy because I've already finished my tasks for the day, she'd get mad for no reason and come into my room, tell me to empty every fucking furniture, wipe them off/out then refold my clothes and put everything back.

I had to clean the whole damn house every day before she arrived home or she'd explode. My brothers never ever had to do anything. They could just throw a tantrum and be done with it. I was awarded with a beating anytime my tone of voice was "out of line".

My mom would just go through my things while I was away and reorder my clothes and stuff, sometimes throw away this and that when she was mad at me for I don't even know what. This is how my sketchbook disappeared.

Give me a bunch of chores just before I was heading out for the evening so I was always late. She also punished me if I was late from home for like 15 minutes.

She'd march into my room at 7 a.m on the weekends to wake me up because it's a lazy ass thing to sleep through the early morning.

I really had to be ready and willing to do and say as she wanted but even then she hated me for it and called my submission a manipulation tactic lol I just couldn't win.

I still deal with the fucking reordering my entire bedroom thing, it's seated so deeply in me that sometimes I do it to myself then get irritated with it. Like why do I do this if it makes me angry and it's unnecessary anyway?

[openingpandorasbox1]

MY MUM FORCING ME TO SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH HER BOYFRIEND

CHRISTMAS WITH MUM’S BOYFRIEND

My mum is trying to force me to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and his family. I don’t understand why she always forces me to do things that I don’t want to do. I don’t feel comfortable around him and she knows why but she doesn’t care. He isn’t my family, and his family isn’t my family. If she wants to spend Christmas with them, she can but that doesn’t mean I have to. I told her I didn’t want to go, and she should respect that decision. She never respects me. I feel like I always be under her control. She acts like a tyrant and a dictator.

I’m an adult but she doesn’t treat me like an adult, I’m being dictated under her rule. She is always angry and gets worse when I refuse to go along with whatever she wants me to do. She’s only nice to me when I go along with everything. It’s almost like she wants to live my life for me I can’t have a life of my own. I can’t breathe around her.

One minute she acts like a normal person and then the next second she turns into a complete psychopath and loses the plot over nothing. I feel like I’m constantly around a mental patient. I must walk around on eggshells in the hope that she won’t explode. My mum loves being angry and hating something and arguing.

I’m sick of her sticking her nose into my business all the time and I’m sick of her telling me what to say (and not what to say) and what to do (and what not to do). She gives me no privacy, she is always snooping. The only privacy I have is inside my head, and she would invade there if she could. I cannot make any choice on my own; they have to be all dictated by her. When I’m around her I feel so drained. I’m tired of being dictated to. She wants me totally under her control.

#toxicmum #toxicmom #toxicmother #toxicparents #controllingmother

[mystery-wings]

Jules Bellamy — Effects of the Past and of the Present 

[toneelspeelster]

painted tongue by taylor byas

[carpetbug]

that moment when you adopt a fuck ton of tiny gods at fourteen and get doomed by the narrative

[llmsos]

Mamas Boy off

[faeriesinthedell]

so i’ve been noticing that people have been reblogging and leaving notes in tags of my post about my mom....so thanks for that..I guess??? I mean I’m glad it’s been cathartic for other people and validating for them, but also it feels really weird for me to thank people for interacting with a post where I talk to myself about my mother and the anxieties and fears and issues that come up in our relationship.

Anyways, I’m glad it’s been cathartic for you all to read, because it was cathartic to write. I might write some more soon, idk. It’s all anonymous but I keep thinking “crap what if she sees it somehow and knows I wrote it and then thinks that I hate her??!!” Long story short, she already thinks that I hate her due to our past arguments and our disagreements. Like I said in my other post, I only fight with her, so......I just don’t want to put the final nail in the coffin and make her think that I  hate her 100% or something.

Today I actually upset her again because we were discussing something and I asked what she wanted me to do (because I was helping her and I knew what she wanted done, but I didn’t know HOW she wanted it done) and she told me and then proceeded to explain in detail about how that specific method works and why it’s done, and I made the mistake of not keeping my mouth shut (aka I said “I know. I know how *insert method here* works). I wasn’t trying to be “smart” or start a fight, but it’s just that she ALWAYS tries to “teach” me how or why things are done, and I can’t say or act like I already know about it or else that apparently comes off as me having an attitude. Literally anything I do, she has to “explain” it in detail to me, even about stuff that she knows that I know. I know I should be more patient but it’s just constant and I don’t need a lesson on how to do things that I already know how to do.

For reference, she insisted that my dad show me how to plunge a toilet, because apparently she assume that I don’t know how to do anything that she or my dad hasn’t directly taught me. Also, I’m 21....so I do know how to plunge a toilet and have know for many, many years. In her defense, i guess she’s thinking of it through the lens of “well we haven’t shown her how to do xyz”...which is true, but also I do teach myself things and I do actively try to learn new skills, but I don’t go and tell my parents every 5 seconds “hey, fyi I now know how to do *insert mundane skill here*.”

Anyways, I finished helping her and when I left the room I could hear my parents whispering and I’m pretty sure it was about me. I don’t have proof, but my mom tends to complain to my dad about me, and he later relays the messages to me so that I have a gauge on how my mom is feeling, because she denies her feelings around me and refuses to admit when she’s upset/hurt/etc.

[cryptocism]

rewatched tangled and had this beamed into my brain

[polarsirens]

first shot

[satoruxx]

i think it’s so funny how suguru gets injured on a mission and then brushes off every attempt you make to care for him. he could quite literally be bleeding out in front of you but still he’s got that stupidly indulgent smile on his face as he tucks your hair behind your ear to see your furrowed brows clearly.

“it’s not a big deal. i promise,” he’ll sigh every time, and you’ll always huff in response.

(because he’s so ridiculous? almost dying and telling you that it’s not that bad.)

“yes it is!” you groan and then you’re fussing over his injuries—and all he can do is show you that same silly helpless smile.

he’s always telling you that it’s not serious—that injuries are nothing to worry about.

but then you get injured on a mission and it completely flips. suguru is all over you, worry so palpable as he takes your face in his palms and lets his eyes rove over your features.

you do the same thing he does—tell him it’s nothing too crazy and that you’re fine and it isn’t something to be so worried about.

(it really isn’t.)

but he never listens, never cares. one little scrape and he’s panicked. he physically will not let you out of his sight.

and when you call him out for it, cheekily grinning as you chuckle, he just sighs and shakes his head because he knows you’re right. he has no intention of stopping though.

what a hypocrite.