Jaina
My mother, my mother, my mother.Oh, my mother.
I love her, but sometimes I can't stand her! During those times, when every thing she does - every little, insignificant thing - rubs me the wrong way, I just want to scream.
But I don't. I hold it in, all the resentment, frustration, and general anger that storm inside my heart. Uncle Luke would say it is of the Dark Side. Well, he doesn't call Leia Organa Solo "Mom"!
I've never really had the strongest bond with her, and yet I knew that in many ways we are very similar. Perhaps that is the problem. All the separations during my childhood, especially during my earliest years, didn't allow for us to become as close as we could have been. And thus our natures, though very alike, are bound to clash with each other more often than if the bond was there. They say opposites attract. Well, I think similars either attract very strongly, or repel each other completely. If you meet someone who's that much like you, you must either love them, or hate them. Or both.
This does not mean I hate Mom. She is my mother, after all! It merely means that sometimes, she drives me crazy! And I find myself counting the days until I can escape her.
I know I shouldn't resent Mom for my childhood, but she is the most likely target for blame. It was her job that kept us apart. Sure she did her best, I know she did, but sometimes it seemed like her best just wasn't good enough. Not for me, at least.
I've known and felt love my entire life. I recognize this. But even that doesn't wipe away the pain and anger. Nothing seems to be able to erase the pain. Nothing.
I wish I didn't have these feelings. I wish that I could just ignore them. But I can't.
It's childish I know, but people seem to forget that I am a child. I'm only sixteen. Too young to be unaffected by adolescent turmoil, too young for rational thought to completely overcome emotion. I've been forced by everyone's expectations to grow up too soon mentally, but in so many ways I am still a child.
I'm too young for all this
My mother, my mother, my mother.Oh, my mother.
I love her, but sometimes I can't stand her! During those times, when every thing she does - every little, insignificant thing - rubs me the wrong way, I just want to scream.
But I don't. I hold it in, all the resentment, frustration, and general anger that storm inside my heart. Uncle Luke would say it is of the Dark Side. Well, he doesn't call Leia Organa Solo "Mom"!
I've never really had the strongest bond with her, and yet I knew that in many ways we are very similar. Perhaps that is the problem. All the separations during my childhood, especially during my earliest years, didn't allow for us to become as close as we could have been. And thus our natures, though very alike, are bound to clash with each other more often than if the bond was there. They say opposites attract. Well, I think similars either attract very strongly, or repel each other completely. If you meet someone who's that much like you, you must either love them, or hate them. Or both.
This does not mean I hate Mom. She is my mother, after all! It merely means that sometimes, she drives me crazy! And I find myself counting the days until I can escape her.
I know I shouldn't resent Mom for my childhood, but she is the most likely target for blame. It was her job that kept us apart. Sure she did her best, I know she did, but sometimes it seemed like her best just wasn't good enough. Not for me, at least.
I've known and felt love my entire life. I recognize this. But even that doesn't wipe away the pain and anger. Nothing seems to be able to erase the pain. Nothing.
I wish I didn't have these feelings. I wish that I could just ignore them. But I can't.
It's childish I know, but people seem to forget that I am a child. I'm only sixteen. Too young to be unaffected by adolescent turmoil, too young for rational thought to completely overcome emotion. I've been forced by everyone's expectations to grow up too soon mentally, but in so many ways I am still a child.
I'm too young for all this