Tomato red pants were the only thing that we could find given the parameters of our shopping trip. We were in a hurry. There were things that my mother would rather be doing. Unfortunately for her, I was not yet capable of going shopping for myself.
I had been wearing the same pair of pants to school everyday for as long as I can remember. This is a pattern that lasted until I went to high school and got my own job and my own money. At that point, I could buy my own clothing and dress however I could afford. I was not there yet.
I was about ten or eleven years of age and the demands of having children were just too inconvenient for my mother. Clothing shopping, well any shopping for that matter, was just not her idea of a good time, so she did as little as possible. When she did shop, she would let us know how expensive we were and how inconvenient we were, but I digress.
On this particular day she had other plans. She always had other plans. I had ripped the only pair of pants that I had. I probably had outgrown them. But, I had ripped them to the point that I could no longer wear them. My mother had been angry. First, she was angry because I had ruined my clothing. Second she was angry because now she had to take me shopping. Third, she was angry because buying me clothing was going to be expensive and finally she was angry because, as she let us know, she would’ve been an opera singer if she had not had children.
So we had hurriedly gone shopping. There was not enough time allotted for us to go to several stores and the department store that we were in did not have a lot of selection in my size. In hind sight, this is hard to believe and I now wonder whether or not she was trying to buy from the children’s department only because they have less expensive items, but I have no way of knowing. If she was, I was probably at the high end and that would explain the limited selection.
Unfortunately for me, a red pair fit. They were hideous. They were unacceptable. They were purchased. I was concerned about going to school in these red pants. I did not want to be seen.
My mother said, “Your ass looks like a big red tomato in those pants.” Nice.
I wrote my first book above, before I knew my mother was a narcissist.
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Drive
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Fax
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Interview
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Call
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Cavity
Narcissism–Scenes From the Front Line — The Funeral
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Trailer
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — Biking
Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Doctor
6 thoughts on “Narcissism-Scenes From the Front Line — The Pants”
This sounds very familiar. I too was one of those one pair of pant kids. I wore that pair of pants forever until a giant hole in the crotch was too big to hide anymore. I remember skipping the first day of school because I knew I would be sent home, my mom got so angry at me. For a few years in middle school I had one pair of underware that I would hand wash and sometimes would not be dry the next day to wear so I wore none. I wore PJ suit to school somedays until the kids discovered it was my pajamas.
When prom rolled around in high school I begged my mom to get me a dress, so we checked out the bargain bin at burlington coat factory and got a blue one for about $40. I was tired of having to be excluded at every single school event due to not having money. I had that dress in it’s original bag until I was 25 when I gave it away. Apparently my mom was still complaining about how she had to get that dress to my sister when I was 28… and how grateful I should be etc. My sister told mom that prom dresses are part of having a child. I should probably note my mom wouldn’t even pay to rent a gown for me to wear on my graduation or a cap or for pictures to be taken to be put in the yearbook (not even bought) my senior year. What a rotten lady.
It is not clear from what you’ve said if you were broke or if your mother was being mean. If there truly wasn’t enough money for these items, it may have been outside of her control.
Wow! So very sad! I wrote a post about female sociopaths and put often times children are made to feel like an inconvenience~ and you just described that with this post!!! Blessings to you!
I should have been more clear, sorry. We had money to purchase school clothing – nothing crazy like $100 shirts each and such, but I could have gotten 2-3 new pants each school year, socks, shoes and a few tops etc. Most of our money it seems was spent on gasoline, cigarettes and booze. It was almost unheard of for my mom not to have a cigarette or jack and coke not in her hand at any time of the day. Her nights were spent wasting gas driving the roads drunk with her boyfriends for hours.
Yeah, I hear you. Her needs were being met. Like my mother’s. Our’s were not being met. I currently am exploring how all of this has impacted how I grew up. it is pretty scary some of the behavioural traits I have that are maladaptive but I needed them to survive.