During a discussion at work with the ladies (I’m being polite instead of saying old moaning gossips) one of them made a comment which made me have a panic attack- all be it a minor one, but a panic attack all the same.
This girl, well woman really, twenty-something anyway. Plain boring type. Long mousey hair, dark eyes, porcelain skin, and no make-up- as I said plain. She started speaking, or perhaps she’d been speaking for a while I don’t know I wasn’t paying attention. So actually I’ll retract the “during a discussion” phrase, because I was basically ear-wigging. Anyway the conversation was wavering on the controversial (oh and dreaded) “relationship” topic. My ears perked up as she babbled on about her boyfriend- who also works somewhere in the call centre; the word death sprung to mind- and how they always argue and she always manages to convince him that she’s right. As she drivelled on my concentration was wearing thin- her conversation was as exciting as her sense of style. And then some elderly married decided to give guidance due to the fact she had 30 years experience on her. And what were her marvellous words of wisdom? “Ah well they say men marry their mothers?” What the fuck?
Alarm bells were suddenly ringing in my head. I found my mouth was instantly dry and my heart seemed to miraculously skip a few beats. What the fuck was wrong with me? Sweaty palms and clenched fists- felt like I’d just taken some mad narcotics. Quickly clicked after call work and kind of ran to the toilet- while familiar eyes watched my erratic behaviour.
Got in the toilet, it was empty and the cool air swept over me, I was away form the claustrophobic call centre environment. Toilets? Why are they so cold- must be something to do with the tiles? Anyway I splashed my face and stared in the mirror, I could hear it echoing around my head “they say men marry their mothers”. I looked in the mirror again, and I heard it again. I gazed at my reflection staring back and I began thinking, not about men, but about mothers. Was finding this one particularly hard to swallow. Being viewed as a mother. Do men really view us as their mothers? It more or less made me feel sick. I’m not the mother type, well maybe that’s an understatement I’m not even the relationship type but… the thought of being seen in the same light as the person you’re datings mother- there is a serious problem here.
I text it to all my closest friends. “They say men marry their mothers: think about it. V.v.v scary thought” number of responses: 0 (they probably think I’ve gone mad, another of Laura’s contemplations) A MOTHER! Mother’s are pernickety and annoying. They spit on their fingers and wipe marks off the offspring’s faces for fuck sake. They moan about tidiness, clean dishes, smoking, drinking. Worry about financial matters, direct debits, have a peculiar taste in fashion and are organised up to their eyeballs, there is even a place in the cupboard where they keep all the carrier bags from Asda. I mean who thinks about stuff like that?? Are those traits that can be seen in myself? Spontaneity and chaos is something I pride myself on, and undoubtedly I am very skilled in. I could never be viewed as a mother, could I? No, I WILL NOT be viewed as a mother.
It is not an attractive quality that I would want any partner to see in me. I found the whole issue completely disturbing. And then the subsequent and inevitable question popped into my head. So do women marry their dads? I let the thought linger than necessary. ARGH! It was all completely wrong. It’s like wanting to date your brother, or something along those incest-ual lines. At that point I made myself promise that I would never in any shape or form cook, clean or sew for any man for fear he man view me as his mother.
This girl, well woman really, twenty-something anyway. Plain boring type. Long mousey hair, dark eyes, porcelain skin, and no make-up- as I said plain. She started speaking, or perhaps she’d been speaking for a while I don’t know I wasn’t paying attention. So actually I’ll retract the “during a discussion” phrase, because I was basically ear-wigging. Anyway the conversation was wavering on the controversial (oh and dreaded) “relationship” topic. My ears perked up as she babbled on about her boyfriend- who also works somewhere in the call centre; the word death sprung to mind- and how they always argue and she always manages to convince him that she’s right. As she drivelled on my concentration was wearing thin- her conversation was as exciting as her sense of style. And then some elderly married decided to give guidance due to the fact she had 30 years experience on her. And what were her marvellous words of wisdom? “Ah well they say men marry their mothers?” What the fuck?
Alarm bells were suddenly ringing in my head. I found my mouth was instantly dry and my heart seemed to miraculously skip a few beats. What the fuck was wrong with me? Sweaty palms and clenched fists- felt like I’d just taken some mad narcotics. Quickly clicked after call work and kind of ran to the toilet- while familiar eyes watched my erratic behaviour.
Got in the toilet, it was empty and the cool air swept over me, I was away form the claustrophobic call centre environment. Toilets? Why are they so cold- must be something to do with the tiles? Anyway I splashed my face and stared in the mirror, I could hear it echoing around my head “they say men marry their mothers”. I looked in the mirror again, and I heard it again. I gazed at my reflection staring back and I began thinking, not about men, but about mothers. Was finding this one particularly hard to swallow. Being viewed as a mother. Do men really view us as their mothers? It more or less made me feel sick. I’m not the mother type, well maybe that’s an understatement I’m not even the relationship type but… the thought of being seen in the same light as the person you’re datings mother- there is a serious problem here.
I text it to all my closest friends. “They say men marry their mothers: think about it. V.v.v scary thought” number of responses: 0 (they probably think I’ve gone mad, another of Laura’s contemplations) A MOTHER! Mother’s are pernickety and annoying. They spit on their fingers and wipe marks off the offspring’s faces for fuck sake. They moan about tidiness, clean dishes, smoking, drinking. Worry about financial matters, direct debits, have a peculiar taste in fashion and are organised up to their eyeballs, there is even a place in the cupboard where they keep all the carrier bags from Asda. I mean who thinks about stuff like that?? Are those traits that can be seen in myself? Spontaneity and chaos is something I pride myself on, and undoubtedly I am very skilled in. I could never be viewed as a mother, could I? No, I WILL NOT be viewed as a mother.
It is not an attractive quality that I would want any partner to see in me. I found the whole issue completely disturbing. And then the subsequent and inevitable question popped into my head. So do women marry their dads? I let the thought linger than necessary. ARGH! It was all completely wrong. It’s like wanting to date your brother, or something along those incest-ual lines. At that point I made myself promise that I would never in any shape or form cook, clean or sew for any man for fear he man view me as his mother.