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Maternal Bonds
Friday, August 12, 2011

Always wanted to write about this, though too lazy to. But now it ought to serve as a memory, a reminder.

It's gonna be a honest post, something I'm ashamed of, but something I'll admit.

It's been weighing on my mind for long since I remembered. Learnt a new part of it some time back, trying to put into action, but perhaps a week too late for the change.


Maybe a bit of my history first. The family I grew up in, wasn't the most conducive. I didn't face any physical or financial difficulty, but it lacked greatly on the emotional and psychological aspects. My father was absent at a young age, and conflicting issues with my mom and brother rendered me a lone individual in the family. One might find it hard to fully comprehend, but truly for me, it was as though I grew up without a family.

I learnt to survive by protecting myself, defending my grounds at all costs. Living mostly a solitary life in my family, it resolved to a nulled concept of familial bonds. Even in hiding, I still yearned the affections of a family, or some kind of bond that translated some form of care from another being.

What I couldn't get inside, I sought outside. From friends and the people around me. But in the course of it, my messed up self caused more trouble than it found good. My deep longing developed into an insatiable hunger for affection, at the same time my honed defense mechanisms kept people at a safe zone. Its combined forces became what many knew me in the past as an annoying attention seeking brat in which was curbed when my best friend left me for that.

Everything inside me caved in, locking me in a rubble of regret, remorse and guilt. I remained isolated for a few years resurfacing later, but becoming hypersensitive to being a nuisance. Yet because I only grew up with aggressive methods, the only way I knew how to relate to people was through mean jokes and words, and finding comfort through their retorts.


One major issue that haunted me still was her. My desire never once died, growing into a monster inside. I always yearned for her affections, her touch, her acknowledgement, her care, her protection. My mom. And then I always hunted elsewhere from my family.

For that reason, I had a special attraction to females, an innate yearning of affection from them, transduced from the maternal bond I seek. I feared them as a revision of the past, yet wished for someone to be able to fill in those shoes.

Despite knowing no one girl would possibly do that, my inner demon manifested strongly in its pursuit. Once I gotten the hang of it, I began searching every possibility, leaving not a single rock unturned. Hence, creating a lot of destructive relationships with people.

Of all I knew, most things would go either two ways. The worser one was me moving on after feeling like it wasn't meeting my needs. And the second, was running away when I knew it could. In both, majority of the friendships would end by a certain marker, either by fear or by satiation.

Knowing this, I began trying to change this path into a personal touch, rather than a lustrous searching. Divert the search into a hope for possible friendships, untainted as it could be.

Yet at the same time, it colluded with the makings of disaster, with now a mixture of sudden genuineness, a search for affections, and a playful nature of making friends clashing with fears of losing, being a burden and causing hurts together with my inaptitude for building proper relationships. The complicated cocktail results in a bittersweet aftertaste.

I guess I became the one I hated. Did things out of my own selfish ambitions. Made wrong moves on people. Hurt those I shouldn’t have. Forgot those I should have held on to. Not sure how many times I’ve done this wrong. It’s keeps playing in my head, all these interactions with girls, the annoying seal that drives me to it, yet the weakness of fighting back these emotions.

I’m a product of my past, but I will shape my future. Whatever it is, that I have made myself to be, I'll change it. I'm trying hard to regulate it now, holding back at some, watching.I've made this mistakes too many, and often consciously letting it slip. Cant keep giving in to these emotions. Need to stand up to what's right, even if it means laying down my heart. I need to stop doing this.



As timothy adeptly put it, what I’m probably searching for is an elder sister. After all, I’m desperately searching for a nurturing maternal care; it doesn’t help to look for it in people around in affectionate ways. I need someone to love me, and then teach and guide me how to. Someone who can teach me family. A miracle bond without all these Freudian urges. It sucks to be ‘strong’. I wonder if I’ll ever find her. Pity I’m the seniors now. Maybe uni. Maybe next time. Maybe never.

I wish too that I can have friends, and that we can be happy. At least now I know what I've been searching for, and I can cherish my friends around me more.




When you wrote about priorities and options, I knew it what would be coming soon. This issue would one way or another dig its way up.

I’m guilty of the fact the way I treat you, forget you, and maybe even treat you like an option. Going to you when I feel like it, forgetting when it matters less. And then when I try to make things up, I either forget, do a sloppy job or end up diverting to myself again. I fear not being good enough, and my hesitation has been like mood switches for you, passionate one moment, pulling back the next.

At least one of the many joyous moments I have with you is when we’re both being friends. For a matter I don’t know how to describe, but all those times where I can let my guard down, knowing you’re fine and simply enjoy the time. I often thank you for it because I really appreciate those meaningful experiences. It feels so unreal whenever I have to be on high vigilance not knowing what goes on next with you.

And for one reason why I succumb to those fears. I find myself being ever too screwed up, with so much emotional baggage, it doesn’t feel right for be to in a close relationship to anyone. I feel that I keep hurting you, dragged you down into this. Feel that you don’t deserve to be treated this way, especially not from someone like me.

You know, I need assurance too, that things are really going to be fine. Because all I’ve known is the bad I’ve done, wrong I’ve made. Hardly ever any praise, thanks, affirmation or anything nice that rings. I'm not even certain of anything well I've done for you. Sometimes, I feel like a obstacle to you rather, seeing the big difference when i'm there and when I'm not, things seems less awkward and easier for you. To me, the frequency of awkwardness and heartbreaks outnumber, outscores, overshadows the smiles and happy moments. I wonder if its true... But who I am I to speak when I cant give you a sense of assurance either. If liking someone means making them happy, and I've failed to even provide you with that, then I dont deserve your affections.

Maybe you’re better off hating me, if it frees you from having your heart broken over and over again by me. I’m not worth it. I'm really sorry.

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