from my other blog:
Gee, Thanks Mom.
You know, my mother and I have never been the closest, but I'm not really sure why she's always so critical of the way I look. It hurts my feelings. Really. So as I'm about to go out, I sit here blogging trying to avoid tears. I like to look nice. I like to take care of myself, but the way I dress and look my mother doesn't like. Most daughters hear from their mothers how beautiful they are, and my mother is always the one who tells me "Are you sure you're not going to straighten your hair?"...I didn't straighten my hair. You know, my mom only tells me I'm pretty when I have on make up and when my hair is fixed perfectly. She must not realize A. How vain that makes her sound. and B. How much it hurts me--rips me into shreds. Now, I know she doesn't mean it to hurt me, but that's the way it always happens. "Do you wanna be invited to go out again?" Does my mom have such little faith in me that I can't be a human? That friendship is based solely on looks? That I have nothing to stand on on my own to offer people? The fact that I'm a smart and good person must apparently mean nothing. Yeah.
So, I'm going to read now. I'm waiting to get a call asking where I live so I can be picked up. If pictures are made, I'll make sure to post one or two of them.
mucho <3 and lots of soul,
Kate
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