As Told By Ada: I Don’t Feel Safe With My Mom

As Told By Ada is a Culture Custodian weekly series exploring the unique and often chaotic experience of navigating life as the oldest daughter in a Nigerian household. Over the course of these mini therapy sessions, we give you a peek into the ups, downs and lingering effects of growing up “the first.”

I feel like my mom is my tether.

You know how in the movie Us, everyone had a tether? Like themselves, but in a parallel universe? That’s how I think of my mom. There are so many parallels in our lives, which is why we’ve always had very rough confrontations. 

I’ve always felt that in a way, I’m living a new and improved version of her life. A different way from how she lived hers, because she has set things up so that I have a better chance at life than she had when she was my age. 

Growing up, my mom had a temper. Honestly, I think she’s not even as bad as she used to be. When my mom is not happy, nobody in the house is happy. There were times when she would get very loud, very violent, and everyone would cry. But generally, aside from that, I would say I had a pretty decent childhood.

I have two younger siblings. My relationship with both of them is super chill because I was never parentified. I was allowed to be a kid. That’s one aspect of the eldest daughter template that I don’t really relate to. There had never been a time when my parents told them, “This is your big sister. Respect her and listen to her.” We were always treated the same. 

But my parents were harder on me than they were on my siblings. I don’t necessarily think it was because I was the oldest, I think it was because I was me. I wouldn’t call myself a difficult child, but I definitely deviated from what Nigerian children are expected to be.

I talked back, I got worked up, I got into trouble.

My siblings aren’t like me or my mom. They clash with her far less than I do, especially my sister. I used to cry a lot too. My mom would get really frustrated by that. She’s not very good with tears or emotions, and I was just… emotional. I cried all the time.

There was a period where every morning before school felt like a war. On one particular day, we had one of our usual before-school fights. I was crying and she was looking at me like, “You’re so emotional. I just can’t deal with you.” 

Honestly, till today she’s still like that with me. She always thinks I’m too much, and I think that’s part of why she never really takes my side against people. If somebody accused me of something, she wouldn’t even question it. Her response was usually, “Yeah, no. That’s how she is.”  

I couldn’t count on her to support me publicly and correct me in private. I was always the bad guy and I resented her for that.

She never defended me against my dad either. They always presented a united front, and I think she took disrespect towards my father more personally. If there was ever a situation where my dad and I were about to go at it, she would immediately insert herself and make it a bigger issue. It didn’t matter whether my dad was doing too much or whether I wasn’t entirely wrong. She would not have my back.

It bothered me a lot. Because if my husband was getting rowdy with my daughter, I wouldn’t back him over her even if she was wrong. So I always felt like she was wrong for that. 

We had a very rocky relationship growing up and we’ve never actually spoken about any of these things. The thing is, she was still a good mother, affectionate, present, and kind. It wasn’t constant hell on earth, but it did create a rift between us and to bridge that gap, she invaded my privacy.

She was always in my business. She used to read my diaries, go through my phone and I think that’s a huge reason why I’m such a private person today. I’ve learned how to mask really well.

It’s probably only now that I’m older—and she can’t really do anything about it—that she’s getting small glimpses of my actual personality. I like going out, I like wearing revealing clothes sometimes, and I like to drink. My mom doesn’t even know that.

I play the role of the good first daughter. I did well in school for the most part and I’ve always been an overachiever. That’s one area of our relationship that was relatively straightforward. My mom wanted us to succeed. She wanted all of us to do well, but with me it always felt extra. She was obsessed with my schoolwork and eventually, even after my parents relaxed a little, I simply picked up where they left off. I became very hard on myself. Till today, if I go a year without reaching a major milestone or accomplishing something substantial, I’m almost in tears. I literally have to remind myself to calm down.

I still feel very unsafe with her. I’m not telling her about boyfriends, I give her as little information about my life as possible, and it’s because when she did have access to me, the way she reacted made me stop trusting her. I don’t trust her not to blow things out of proportion, I don’t trust her not to judge me, I don’t trust her to be normal about certain things.

Which is funny because we actually have a very loving relationship now. We’re friends, we laugh, we gist, we’re very chill but I don’t tell her stuff because I don’t trust her. Even though she’s shown me that she’s relaxed a little, I’m still iffy. I understand her much better now and that has helped our relationship, but I still keep my guard up.

I’ve always wanted my mom to understand me, and to please her. Honestly, I could say the same thing about my dad, but there’s a specific kind of validation I look to my mom for. I’ve always wanted to be the daughter she wants me to be. I want her to be proud of me.

I think I spent a lot of my childhood chasing that feeling. Trying to do better in school, trying to behave better, trying not to get into trouble. Trying to earn more affection. I think that has followed me into adulthood. 

In most of my relationships, because I always felt like love had to be earned, I place less value on friendships that feel conditional. If I feel pressure to perform in order to be liked, I get uncomfortable. It feels familiar in the worst way, like I’m chasing that affection again. It makes me feel unsafe.

I prefer friendships where I’m loved simply because I exist. Romantic relationships are another story. I definitely have a habit of choosing the least affectionate person available and then spending my time chasing affection from them. Maybe it’s just what I’m used to. I need to work on that.

Another thing I know is that I have a lot of anger, and sometimes it sneaks up on me. Most people who meet me would never guess that I have a temper. I’m very friendly and easygoing, but then somebody annoys me and suddenly they don’t recognize me anymore.

I almost feel bad for some of the men I’ve dated. You meet me and I’m an angel, then you piss me off once and you’re wondering if I’m possessed. It’s like a switch flips. I get so wrapped up in my rage, and I know it probably comes from my childhood. From being so much like my mother, from things that surface when you least expect them to.

That’s what worries me about becoming a parent. I know I’ll get angry with my children from time to time, but the question is what happens next? I don’t want to be the kind of mother who scares her children. I don’t want to hit them or be mean for no reason. But instincts can betray you, and what you want to do is not always what you actually do. So I think about it a lot. Hopefully, by the time I have children, I’ll be a different person. I’m working on it.

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