She hardly knew me

It always seemed that I was invisible. 

I had no real identity, no sense of self.

No personality trait was ever celebrated or acknowledged.

I was discouraged from having any preference or free thought, if I did I

was often told I was wrong or it was challenged or overlooked,

 I was silenced often and my requests and opinions were dismissed as unimportant as I was merely a child and adults were always right and must be obeyed.

And because she had little or no interest in me, she really never knew me, she really didn`t want to, I was unimportant.

By contrast though I seemed to know every detail of her life, past and present, 

I was force fed it on a daily basis.

It was always this way, she never knew what class I was in at school or my Teacher`s name, what subjects I liked or struggled with. She never remembered any important dates, 

when we missed things I got in trouble for not telling her, even though I had, or I was in trouble for not reminding her. 

I went to Girls Brigade at the local church. We were told we would be having our photos taken on a certain day and to be in uniform for them, I passed the message on and forgot about it. 

Fair enough really, I was a child, I never expected my own children to remember things like that, I`m Mom so it was my job.

So I turn up one week and find all the others in uniform, white starched shirts and tie, polished shoes and blazer`s....there was me in my regular clothes,

everyone was staring, didn`t you tell ya Mom ? they asked.....

So I was made to borrow another girls Blazer and cap and make do with it over my jumper. Of course she was ranting and raving when I told her and once again when the photo arrived as I`d made a show her failing in her duty and tarnished her image.

There was no remorse she had forgotten or empathy for me feeling a fool.

When I look at this photo I just remember the shame and the fear of having to tell her we had forgotten. I felt so foolish and was scared I would be told off with everyone watching. I think it shows in my face.

At the same church I used to attend the Youth Club, not through choice as I dreaded the evening coming around and was glad when it was over, I was not a mixer and lacked confidence and the skills to get along with other children, I kept my head down, smiled a lot, laughed in all the right places so people would like me and said as little as possible.

So the annual trip to Jersey was on offer to stay at a youth hostel and as the main organiser lived right opposite us, she collared my parents about me going until it got to a point where they had to say yes or look bad. I wasn`t too keen on going but I was curious to go on a plane for the fist time. It was paid for in instalments and I got the usual chapter and verse of how much it was costing and my chore list increased so I paid in the only way I could. 

There was a big meeting for the parents to be told what to bring and what not to, discuss any special needs, insurance forms, the itinerary etc and to answer all the questions concerned parents might have as they sent their young teen on holiday in the care of someone else.

My Father was not home from work but I had reminded my Mother several times, when I again asked her if she was coming, she looked in the mirror at her unkept hair and having just woken from her afternoon nap she wrinkled her nose up and told me she didn`t think so, she wasn`t up to it, tell em I`ve got a migraine she told me. So I turn up and my crowd are all chatting with their Mom`s and Dad`s and I try to be invisible on the sidelines. Now knowing, many years later, our neighbour across the Road had gotten the measure of the parenting I received, I imagine some of the others were also noticing I was often the odd one out and flying solo. Where`s ya Mom n Dad, aren`t they coming, a few asked, putting me on the spot....She`s not very well I said gravely, she`s got a migraine...hoping this would stop the questioning, it did, for a while.

So the meeting goes ahead and I sit on an end row, vaguely tagged onto someones else`s family, smiling awkwardly and pretending I`m fine with being the only one there alone.

At last it ends and we file outside. Suddenly across the road I see my Mother, walking the dog, freshly changed and spruced up with a full face of slap on, waving frantically and calling out my name in her actress voice.

"Thought you said she was ill" one of the meaner, older girls says accusingly at the top of her voice, causing those close by to stare at me and not my errant Mother...well that`s what she said I stutter, my face like a tomato and tears of humiliation beginning to sting at the back of my eyes from the stress of endlessly deflecting the `why are you on your own` inquisition. 

Mother prances over and gushes to one of the organiser`s "how busy she`s been" and "has she missed anything important", immediately glazing over and tuning out as she`s given a hasty recap, choosing instead to gaze about her and smile graciously at all the curious looks she`s getting, completely missing the point they are wondering why the hell she`s turned up now it`s all over.

We walk home while she chats animatedly, so and so has put weight on and was that such and such`s daughter, never liked her mother much and did you see what`s a name looking at my outfit !

I trot along beside her, staring at the pavement and daydream there`s going to be a terrible accident while I`m on holiday and I get to live happily in a Jersey orphanage with a considerably reduced chore list.