Trivialities & Intricacies

Good golly, one more negative thing today and I am going to scream in frustration.
After months of back-and-forth drama with regard to my basement storage- and hobby room [no thanks to my brother, the jerk], I finally gathered all my courage today, to start creating handmade books again. Because it’s been quite a while, I pretty much have to start from scratch again and was afraid to begin for the past two weeks [due to possible failure and resulting discouragement]. But today was going to be the day, until….
Simultaneously, I wanted to sew a little pouch according to a video tutorial I saw on pinterest. Even though I should know better by now, I asked my mom to show me which fabric I can use to give this little project a try. It most definitely didn’t end with the selection of materials to work with. Oh no, she took over the entire project, she always does. And if I dare say something, she gets upset and accuses me of being ungrateful, for not accepting the offered help…. And of course she wants to force her ways on me, all the gosh darn time. I explained more than once, that I wanted to try what was being shown in the video. Every step of the way was commented on about how it should be done “correctly”. To cut to the chase, once this dang pouch was completed, I was upset and had no desire left to start crafting. I should not let this get to me, it’s my own fault. She means well, yeah I know….all of it. Truth, though? I hate being micromanaged. Don’t tell me what to do, honestly. Just let me try it. Let me fail by myself. Let me learn. Ugh! But, ungrateful bitch that I am… You know what’s funny? To this present day she [and pretty much everyone else who knows me] wonders, why I don’t believe in myself and my abilities. You know the sad part about it all? When I was in America I learned self confidence. Friends and co-workers believed in me, encouraged me. Everyday life, with all its ups and downs, taught me that I am capable of so much more than I would have thought possible. I was well on my way to being a lot more self confident, to try new things, test my abilities. Unfortunately since my move back to Germany I’ve been regressing to being my mother’s child, in desperate need [her opinion] of micromanagement.
Sometimes I can’t help but cry, when I think about how far and hard I fought my way forward, about everything I learned, with lots of tough love, but also without anyone by myside to take over. I was independent, managed every aspect of my life alone. Some choices were questionable, with the outcome not being in my favor. But hey, you live and you learn. That’s the way life goes.
Sometimes I just want to get in the car and leave. My heart just screams for a place, where nobody knows me, where I can live on my own terms, make decisions and mistakes, and just be myself. But it’s not going to happen, because just like all of you I was raised to be a good kid and do what’s right and expected of me. Once I calm down again I realize, that the remaining time with my mom is limited. So I call myself to order, and to be more forgiving and thankful for the time she sets aside to take an interest in what I do, or her willingness to teach me another way of doing things. It’s a damn pouch, for heaven’s sake, and not truly that important. Tomorrow is a new day, another opportunity to begin crafting again. I wrote about my frustration, the grumpy mood has been wrestled to the ground successfully, and now it’s all good again.