I wanted my mom to be everything for me.

I wanted my mom to be everything for me.

I’ve never known how did it feel to be the whole world for someone. I never felt I was. There was always something more important. There was always something else to do. There was always something which couldn’t wait.

For the first time in my life I feel I’m the whole world for someone. I’m the whole world for my baby. It’s such a new feeling to know someone needs me so much. It’s such a new feeling someone misses me so strongly whenever I’m out. It’s such a new feeling someone shows such unconditional love. Babies are truly the best at expressing unconditional love.

I’m coming back to the times when I wanted someone to be the whole world for me.

My name is Mimi Jones. I’m 14 years old. I’m of average height, blond hair, blue-green eyes. I was born on 13th of May ’86. I like to dance, listen to the music and walk with my friends. As almost every teenager, I’m a bit crazy, but mostly I’m quite shy. I’m open to other people, but I hide my feelings so that they don’t discover who I really am. Why am I doing so? I don’t know. I don’t feel I can be vulnerable with others. I feel all what I think may seem silly for them. I prefer to write it down here as this is the only safe place when I’m not judged. Or the only person who judges me here is myself. I like to read books as well, but only about love between young people. Maybe this is because I miss love so much. Can we miss something we’ve never experienced? I guess, we can. I miss it even if I’m not sure how does it taste. One day, I would like to go for bungee jumping, even if I’m totally scared of it and go abroad to see the whole world. I hope that, you my diary, you are going to help me to get to know myself better.

This is the page I wrote down over twenty years ago in my personal diary. I was feeling so lost with who I was and who I would like to be. I couldn’t wait to leave my small village. I couldn’t wait to start to work. To be independent. To take my own decisions. I was living on the edge. Counting days, months, years to start my adulthood. Time seemed to stop and not willing to run a bit faster. I was trying to get myself busy, but I was totally bored with my life.

People who compromised their dreams.

I was feeling locked in a strange reality where I didn’t understand people around me. I didn’t understand why they decided to live this way. Why they compromised their dreams for having a mediocre life. A job they hated. Repetitive household tasks. At least if they looked happy, I could believe it would have made a sense. But they didn’t. They looked like locked in a prison without a key. Without a keeper who could release them one day. They were the keeper, but they forgot about it. They believed nothing could be changed. So they accepted their life the way it was. Even if it was for the price of their happiness.

I need to leave this place.

I knew one day I would leave this place. I didn’t fit in. Not because I didn’t want to. It’s because the place didn’t want me. I felt it from the first time I got conscious about what was going on. It’s not a coincidence my parents didn’t understand me. It’s not a coincidence peers from my neighbourhood didn’t understand me. That peers at school didn’t understand me. Something must have been wrong. The only question was whether something was wrong with me or with this place?

Born at wrong time.

My mum used to say I was unlucky to start my childhood at that time. My peers were a mix of very tough personalities. I don’t believe children are born with defined characters. They might get some predispositions, but most of the character is impacted by the way they’re raised. It was the time when children were getting together when their moms were getting together with other moms. If a mom was not very popular, the child was kind of screwed.

New in the town.

My mother did not grow up in that environment. She moved there after she got married with my father. She was new. It was challenging for her to get connected with other moms even she tried hard. She was invited from time to time for a friendly coffee, but not so often as she wanted. My peers were calling other moms aunties. I’ve never had any auntie. I’ve got just my mom.

My mom was everything for me. I wanted her to be everything for me. But mom was busy with working hard so that I have a better future. She did not know how important is to take care of a better present.

[TO BE CONTINUED…]

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