Would be that my mother could admit that some things are different for me because I'm a disabled person. Like, I'm fifty...not exactly old, you know, but a little too old to Grow Up Okay, Without Stigma. You know?
But not admitting when they're not doesn't even cushion the blow anymore. Sometimes I wish we could be more candid...we have an honest relationship in many other ways. (Not that I'm totally complaining...denial probably got us through when I was a little kid and she was 25 with no clear path forward, but it's not helping me anymore.) Maybe it's just better to share that stuff with other people, though.
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Maybe sometimes things are more universal than I think...
Sometimes I wish we could be more candid...we have an honest relationship in many other ways.
(Not that I'm totally complaining...denial probably got us through when I was a little kid and she was 25 with no clear path forward, but it's not helping me anymore.)
Maybe it's just better to share that stuff with other people, though.