I just had a horrible, shouting fight with my mum. She said things and I said worse things (all without swearing because I’m pretty sure my mum would choke and die in surprise if I swore…) and then she stormed out and left me alone, which was what I wanted in the first place, really.

To put this into context for you: she wants me to exercise and go on a diet or something. I’m not fat. I’m actually underweight for my height, but that’s not enough for my mother. She’s decided to sign me up for the local gym, and tries to force me to go every week, and every two days during the holiday. I just don’t understand what her problem is. She’s also decided to hide all cakes, chocolates and biscuits from me in case I eat them. Sure, I eat loads, but then again, I’m growing (I grew at least 1 cm this week, making me 5ft 7!) She cooks only healthy meals for me, and watches whatever I eat, which makes me feel so super fantastic about myself, I could cry.

This is what I tried to point out to her just now, after she shrieked at me once again to get off the bed, off the computer and outside. She almost dragged me off the bed and bundled me into the car to force me to go the the gym. I, clearly, was leading a very exciting, virtual social life (another thing she constantly bitches about) but she could care less. So, I lost my temper at her and told her that she should go read a few parenting books, because if there’s one thing everybody knows, it’s not to tell a teenager with stupidly low self-esteem that she’s fat and needs to “watch what she eats”. Also, I reminded her that she was not exactly the sanest, most rational judge, and accused her of trying to give me eating disorders (although I already suffer from something called yo-yo dieting because of her).

Her self-image is suffering because she just turned 50 and lost her waist. She was beautiful when she was younger: she could have easily been a model. But, as is natural, she’s aging, and she’s gained weight. She’s grown outwards. For some reason, this has triggered something in her brain that makes her focus all her frustrations at her own weight on me. None of my friends’ mothers call their children fat, as far as I know, or force them to go on diets, but my mother does so pointedly and repeatedly.

What really, really annoys me is that when I begin to do as she tells me, as I eventually will, and begin my period of cutting down what I eat to the absolute minimum, she’ll get all mad and start believing I have an eating disorder. More watching what I eat. I just can’t win. I eat too much, or too little; if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I’ll never be good enough for this mother.

Mothers are always supposed to know best. It’s a shock, as a child, when you realise that your mother doesn’t.

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