The Defender of Everyone But Me

N: "He's a racist."

M: "You don't know that. He might have changed."

N: "I do. He's a Trumper and against vaccines."

M: "Well. He seemed fine yesterday."

This is a snippet of the latest conversation between my mother and I but it's further proof that she'll defend everyone in the world but me. Her own daughter. But my cousin's racist fiancé? The same one who ignored my father and refuses to speak to anyone else but my cousin and her coconut siblings? Oh, she'll defend him like there's no tomorrow and pretend his previous rude actions and gestures never happened. I don't understand. Not that I would ever want to but it infuriates me like no other because she's never defended me in the past or taken my side. 

Growing up, my mother would often pose the question of, "What did you do wrong?" or "What did you say?" when it came to misunderstandings or disagreements with friends or past ex-boyfriends. Not an initial inquiry into my own well-being or whether I needed mental or emotional support. No, she never offered any of that to me. Instead, she took aim at me and fired off multiple probing questions as if she were a detective facing a very guilty criminal. It was a horrible experience that happened over and over again because I was always pointed at, always deemed the villain without knowing more about the situation. She didn't feel any other knowledge or previous insight was necessary when it came to a situation with her own daughter. Why? Because I was automatically both the accused and guilty of whatever punishment that she had in mind. On top of that, she tore whatever sense of self-worth that I had into pieces. She was especially vicious when it came to my past ex-boyfriends. No matter who I brought home, she was quick to sarcastically thank them for being with someone like me. As if being with me was a death sentence or some punishment that I should avoid. In my previous relationship, my mother wrongly accused me of going behind my (now ex) boyfriend's back to hang out with a few guy friends that I had. First and foremost, I am always honest. And secondly, my partner at the time was well aware of my friendships and didn't mind that I hung out with male friends. Nor did he mind at all. But did my mother care for that? No, of course not because she proceeded to yell at me and accuse me of being a cheater or someone who sneaks around. She kept insisting that my partner would be hurt by my actions but again, HE ALREADY KNEW. I hated it. I still hate it because I remember feeling beyond worthless every time. It made me question my own self-worth at times because how could my own mother take the side of other people, of everyone else but her own daughter.

Honestly, I still don't know nor would I settle for any sorry excuse of an answer. But I do know that I stopped needing my mother's validation for my own self-worth a while ago.