“I'm not going to bump into your Dad, am I?”. “Not unless you're going 3 miles down the road.”. There was his first mistake; this poor soul had assumed that the force to be reckoned with in my life is my Father. In fact, it's my Mum. Those in my life that know her know, on the whole, she's pretty cool about most things I do. She encourages me to stay out until all hours (“just be safe”) and has no problem with me drinking – actually it was mum who gave me my first tequila slammer a few years before the age of consent. There's one area where the Indian Mother does kick in though – boys.
A few months ago, at the age of twenty-eight, I moved back home after nine years of living out. This was a decision I made quite easily. I knew I was going to be somewhere safe and well looked after so I could prepare for a little adventure I have planned. Home comforts without the hassles of being in my adolescence – no need to seek permission to do stuff, no longer being grounded and not having to ask for pocket money. On the whole our relationship has relaxed, allowing us to become closer (if that was even possible) as Mother and Daughter through a new found mutual respect. My admiration for her had grown immensely after realising that Mum had supported me through everything - my visions of being a hot-shot tv editor included - through all that is frowned upon in our culture. A divorced Mother bringing up her daughter without anybody's help – how absurd?! This was a realisation that came after I left home, allowing myself to become a little removed from the situation. Mum's respect for me had been discovered once I'd flown the nest and proved I was able to stand on my own two feet – a daughter she is proud of.
The most difficult part of moving back in with Mum for me is trying to conduct a healthy relationship with a boy. You see, Mum and I have a mutual understanding – never, and I mean NEVER, do we discuss my dating adventures. Of course she knows I am likely to be dating but she doesn't want to know the ins and outs (pardon the pun) until it's a good few months into the relationship and I can see it going “somewhere”. This puts me in a quandary – for the first six to eight months of any relationship I'm in, my partner has to accept that he won't exist in my home life. That's a big ask, right?
The not-so-fun-“no-you-can't-get-drunk-to-deal-with-it” first meeting with the parents doesn't usually happen for some months so that's no massive issue. What is a big deal is that any time we may wish to spend together will need to be done miles from my place. And sleepovers at mine won't happen for a long while and when they do start to happen it'll be separate rooms for a few months (though there are no creaking floorboards between my bedroom and the spare room, I've tested it out!).
The first few months of dating are supposed to be fun and frivolous and I cherish that time – butterflies in the tummy when ever he calls or texts (or facebooks) and needing to plan, right down to my toe-varnish, what I'll be wearing the next time I meet up with him – priceless. However, instead of just thinking about him and “us” I have to take my Mum into account. Great! I have to expect the person I'm dating, a grown man, to act like a teenager and sneak about with me like he's fourteen again – what an amazing prospect for him! “Darling, instead of acting like the adults we are, please can we pretend nothing is going on between us and that you are totally unaware of my funny shaped, oddly placed birthmark that changes colour when you touch it? Thank you.” How utterly ridiculous?! I would be absolutely horrified if a guy did that to me. I'd start stinky-thinking the only “logical” solution being that he's ashamed of me. And I'm expecting my partner, who I eventually hope I will care deeply about, to accept my t & c's. Now, we all have quirks but this is a major flaw!
I know honesty is the best policy but should I address this in the first few weeks, the “delicate” stage of courting, knowing that his response is most likely to be the thing I fear the most – rejection – for something that is out of my control? We all have baggage but an Indian Mother requires more understanding than most skeletons in the closet. This kind of thing was far easier to deal with when I was 120 miles from home – why do you think I stayed away for so long?! And I didn't even have to lie, I could just be economical with the truth.
Once the boy has my Mum's approval, providing we make it that long together, she will love him as much as I do (but in a very different way, I hope!). Those of my male friends she has met she thinks are fab, perhaps because they turned on the charm when they met her but it worked.
I guess what is evident is that my Mum only has my best interests at heart. She wants me to fulfill my potential and not compromise myself or my ambitions because I've been distracted by a member of the opposite sex. She's never had to rely on a man, or been able to depend on one so has ensured she's kitted me out mentally to be confident and capable on my own. For this I thank her. It makes it easier to sort the men from the boys when it comes to the opposite sex and their intentions. Any boyfriend that has or will meet Mum in his true role as my partner should realise just how privileged he is – not just because we've made it to the “serious” stage but also as he's been properly let into my life and met my driving force.
I guess if it all does get too much and I can't cope with the secrecy I could give in to my Dad's wishes and go down the arranged marriage route... but that's a whole different story! x
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