When I was about thirteen years old I was perfectly molded in the opinions of the current society. I had my life all planned out, and was sure that my plans were socially pleasing to all of my friends. I was also sure that my plans would ensure that I wouldn’t turn out like my mother, who at the time was a person I didn’t really care about pleasing that much. You got it, I was a run of the mill, know it all and going to do it better than my parents, teenager. The only problem was, I didn’t really know what better meant because I was only seeing the popular social perspective.
This was the plan. I was going to go to college and get a degree in psychology, go on a mission for my church, get married to a really cute guy, and be a career woman. The picture alloted for a couple of children too, but those weren’t the important thing, the career was. I was pretty sure I knew that being a mom meant being a victim. Moms were weak. They didn’t do anything worth while. No one seemed to care much about mothers. They didn’t get Continue reading