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Day 682

My mother

My mother is a man’s woman. She expects that men will protect her and she would not expect or want a woman to protect her. She thinks of herself as fragile and she needs this protection. She wants to be looked after by a man and told what to do by him. She wants to submit herself and let go of herself and for her to do that she needs a man, ideally her husband, failing that one of her sons. She does not respect or like other women any more than she respects of likes herself. She thinks they are inferior to men, that they should be quiet and do as they are told, that they should put their husbands first and for them to pursue their own interests or pleasures without their husbands is an abomination. She is appalled by divorce and single mothers. It explains why she doesn’t like lovely N. He is the product of a brief encounter that should never have happened, he is a ‘bastard’. That is the word she would use for him. She hates bastards, gays, divorced and single women. Odd, given that her mother was widowed when my mother was five.

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