The Last Place On Earth

Every time I try to work up a post explaining the conversation Mother Madame and I had three nights ago, I stop writing midway through because I just don’t want to think about it.

Here’s what I found out from the conversation, in a nutshell. She thinks I’m ‘too weak’ to handle the fifteen years of schooling required to get a doctorate, that med school is too competitive and forensic psychiatry is ‘too dark’ for someone like me. She said that within three weeks of going to college out-of-state I’m going to call her up and beg her to let me move with them to California, and it’s ‘downright stupid’ to decide to end up with that much debt when I could just go to a community college in Fresno, live at home, and become a fashion designer.

Most of the time I can argue with her and keep my wits about me, because I have a hold on what I should say and what I’ll regret saying later, and I know the power of a calm and quiet voice in the face of anger. The thing is, it’s a bit of a different story when I’m furious.

When I’m furious, it’s like two parts of my brain are at war. One part wants to yell until I’m blue in the face everything that I really think at that moment, and the other part is trying to shut the first part up and regain emotional control. The result is me sounding like a stuttering little kid. Like when I stopped myself from telling my mother to shut up during said argument:

Mother Madame: “Well, you know what, Hannah? I’m giving you a free pass this time because you’re just too young to know what you actually want-”

Me: “I just- you just- I don’t- I…want you to just…stop talking like that!”

I’m not happy that I know the truth, but I prefer it to not knowing. She explained that she doesn’t think I’m strong enough to get to where I want to go in life. I’ve been feeling her doubt for a while on some level or other, so it wasn’t too much of a shock, and it wouldn’t be the first time in history that a daughter did something to disappoint her mother. It’s okay.

I admit that the worst buttons to push with me is to say that I’m incapable and that I’m lying. The last time I was that angry was when she told me a couple of years ago that she thought I was lying about having any anxiety problems and having an eating disorder (even when my brother told her that he heard me tossing up dinner several nights a week, she thought I was ‘just being dramatic’).

But, it’s okay. I know where I want to go (yep, I’ve finally decided,) and the last place on earth I’m going is Clovis, California.

Until I Write Again,



10 thoughts on “The Last Place On Earth

  1. Sometimes the people who least understand us, or don’t lift us up, are actually the closest people in our lives. Follow what you want, never let anyone say you can’t, or that you are too weak.

  2. Wow. If you’re mom is really saying this stuff, then she’s got some weird issues. Who the hell wants their daughter to be a fashion designer instead of a doctor or psychiatrist? Go with what you need to do, sweetie. She’ll have to come around eventually.

    • Should’ve met my mother, Rebecca. She wanted me to leave school in my second-last year and pursue full time work in a supermarket.

      At the very least, Classic’s mum is still encouraging her to go to college. My mother didn’t even do that.

    • I suppose she’s just hoping I’ll live a mild life. Stay safe and close to home, keep everything predictable. I’ve always been able to bring to the surface her more adventurous side when I talk about trips to Paris and traveling the country, but I suppose just the idea of me being alone and exploring a very bumpy, uncertain road doesn’t appeal to her. I do want to be on her side, because being a parent is incredibly difficult, and after dealing with me for nearly 18 years (I’ve always been stubborn and too driven,) I’m surprised she hasn’t gone mad 🙂 I know she’ll be proud on some level when all of this is said and done, and there will be a decent amount of bragging rights for raising a daughter who went to med school. I know you’re right, eventually she’ll come around, even if it’s farther down the road than I’d like. Thank you 😀

  3. …she doesn’t think I’m strong enough to get to where I want to go in life…
    Well the only way to find out is by trying!! You should tell her that next time 🙂

  4. I can’t believe she called you “weak”! RIght now you have a goal. That’s more than most woman your age have! And no one said you have to follow that goal to verbatim. Maybe forensics won’t pan out for you. Maybe you’ll change to English Lit or Literary Writing. Who knows!? You’ll never be able to accomplish any of this if you don’t spread your wings. I think you’re more than ready and mature enough to pull this off. You’re focused, confident and not easily lead. Ok, what if you just happen to fall flat on your face? Shit happens!! And it’s up to your mom to pick you up, dust you off and kick you back out there! Parents do it all the time! It’s the only way you learn. Life is like that.
    Oh, I know what you mean about getting tongue tied when you get angry! I get so mad sometimes I start tearing up! And then I can’t speak!

  5. I want to hit like, because I love your conviction at the end of this post, but not without commenting.

    When I get furious, I cry. Uncontrollably! Which is so frustrating because my mother has often mistaken it as me simply playing for sympathy or being ‘sad’ over not getting things my way, and so it makes it difficult to get her to take me seriously, when she just sees some ‘cry baby’, or a whining five year old.

    Darling, we have so much in common. All of last year my mother made me feel like she was just waiting for me to fail, and told me more than once that she wouldn’t be surprised if I had to repeat part of my course. But you know what? It’s an amazing feeling to prove them wrong, and I have no doubt you will 😉

    I think in some way my mother was also trying to prepare me for the worst case scenario (also mentioning how expensive & what a waste it would be if I did fail, which I was apparently likely to do) – she sees now that I’m serious about nursing, and I can do this. I haven’t told her yet, but I’m seriously considering extending my studies to become a nurse practitioner (meaning I’ll end up with a doctorate in nursing), and I have no idea if she’ll be supportive. But I believe in me and well I think that’s what matters when it comes to your aspirations; you have to believe in yourself.

    And of course I believe in you too 🙂


    • Wow, that sounds exactly like my mom, she often gets annoyed when I start crying – she always has. And she has told me before to not be surprised if I’m not as capable as I think I am, and to ‘prepare for a rude awakening’, aka, wake up to find she has been right this entire time. And she talks about the money a LOT, she keeps saying how foolish I’m being because at the end of all of it I’ll be in so much debt it isn’t worth it.

      I’ve come to see it as a sort of protection, but it just feels like the worst kind of motherly protection possible.

      You’re right, the important thing is that you believe you can, even if she doesn’t.
      Thank you 🙂 and you know I’m on your side as well! 😀

      • My mum instantly jumps to the worst case scenario – always. It’s so frustrating, but on a rare occasion has prepared me for what actually happened. I have to agree, it is a horrible kind of motherly protection.

        & thank you darling 🙂
        It makes me giddy thinking of how great it’s going to be when all the studying is over & we can proudly say “I did it!” – best motivation ever 😀

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