Violence in the Name of Kindness — A 40-Year Story of a Home That Creates a Mama's Boy
There was always a 'project to be done' right in front of me.
Work, studies, finding a job, marriage, independence.
Every part of life had a deadline, a responsibility, and no place to run.
……Or so I thought.
And yet, for some reason, 'before I knew it, it was over'.
Even though I had never 'done' anything myself,
everything had been taken care of before I realized it.
It took me nearly 40 years to realize the reason why.
There had always been a 'monster of the opposite sex' in our house.
Of course, not a real monster.
It was my mother.
From the moment I was born, my mother was the 'back-end project manager' of my life.
Moreover, she was the ultimate practitioner who would finish everything ahead of time.
Even if I didn't move, meals would appear.
Even if I didn't ask, the laundry would be done.
Before I could even be troubled, everything was already solved.
Wait?
How long am I allowed to do nothing?
It's been 40 years, and I haven't done a thing at home.
But my mother has her own logic.
'After all, you're the son I bore through the pain of childbirth.'
This 'single indulgence' is powerful.
Whatever she does is forgiven.
She truly believes that spoiling me is a form of love.
With care.
So that I wouldn't break.
So that I wouldn't get a scratch.
So that no one else could 'take me away'.
Overprotection eventually turns into 'control'.
And time flows on—
'How old is this child again?'
'Wait, he's already 70?'
A 70-year-old child.
It sounds like a joke, but it's a story that actually exists.
My mother's vision is blurred by cataracts, and her knees ache.
But even today, a warm meal is placed in the child's room,
and a voice calls out, 'It's cold, so put on a jacket.'
What was I supposed to do about raising a child?
My mother didn't forget.
She never knew in the first place.
Kindness sometimes turns into the 'violence of love'.
Borrowing the name of kindness,
it steals 'independence' from the child.
By the time you realize it, it is already too late.
My mother had taken care of all my life's deadlines for me.
That is why the person himself does not even understand the meaning of a deadline.
This is how a mama's boy is made.
This is not an extreme story.
It is a story that happens everywhere.
Even today, somewhere, 'coddling disguised as kindness'
is producing a new mama's boy.
And, perhaps the mother herself is thinking this.
'What was I supposed to do for child-rearing again?'
How is it in your home?
I would like you to think back on it, just a little.
You can read the rest on Kindle.
If you are even slightly interested, please take a look.
📘 Kindle Book 'The Man Who Doesn't Run — A 32-Year Field Story of a Sole Proprietor'
📘 Kindle https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B0FVWPSLQ4/
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