🤱【Thinking of You】Joining the Faith 776

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My mother, who kept trying various health methods, educational methods, gymnastics, brown rice and vegetable diets, YOGA, Makko-ho, hypnotherapy, and more to try to cure my personality, behavior, and tic disorder (?), eventually arrived at a new religious movement.
I don't know what it was about me that my mother didn't like, but she always sought solutions outside of herself instead of facing me directly.

My mother now lives in a group home due to memory loss, but even so, she sometimes remembers and says, 'I have to go' or 'I have to pay the money.'
If she is still a believer, it has been a full 50 years or more.
I think she actually attended for about 46 years.

It is not a cult, the doctrine is not extreme, and it is not colluding with any political party.
It is rather peaceful, emphasizing things like living in harmony with others, getting along as a married couple, children listening to their parents, and raising children through praise.
They don't make you buy urns or prayer beads.
There are (or were, I don't know now) famous celebrities and business leaders who were believers.

They say that by believing and attending, your destiny will change.
They say 'this is the only place' where you can change your genetics, though I don't know about that.
As someone who was already cynical by the 6th grade, I am skeptical, thinking, 'Isn't the very idea of believing that your genetics have changed something determined by genetics?'
It seems my mother, younger brother, and younger sister had joined about half a year before me.
It was a secret from my father.
It's not that I particularly wanted to join early, but I was jealous of my brother and sister, thinking, 'Yeah, yeah, so I was left out again.'

Once she gained faith, my mother became lively.
'Children must listen to their parents,' 'If you want to get better grades, you must help with chores,' 'If you want to be liked by your teacher, you must be liked by your parents'...
Like a fish in water, she became enthusiastic about controlling me.

Certainly, such teachings existed.
But they also told parents, 'Let's find the good points in our children,' 'Let's praise our children,' and 'Let's accept our children as they are.'
My mother's ears were completely 'selectively deaf.'
*Selectively deaf = A person who only listens to what is convenient for them.
'Deaf' is considered a discriminatory term, so it is usually rephrased as 'a person who cannot hear.'

More chores were imposed on me, and within my mother, detailed teachings like 'To become good at Japanese...' accumulated.

By the way, have you ever had the experience of suddenly being able to do a back hip circle when you couldn't before, or jumping over a vaulting box you couldn't jump over?
It's the same with riding a bicycle.
The feeling of 'somehow, I can do it now.'
And the experience of actually being able to do it.
That feeling descended upon me in the latter half of the 5th grade regarding my studies, sports, and social relationships.

Not only did I suddenly stop being afraid of dodgeball, but when the desire to 'I'll catch the ball!!' welled up, I became good at other ball games too.
I, who was shy, ran for the student council and spoke at the candidate speech meeting.
Once I understood one way of thinking in math, my grades in other subjects also went up.

My homeroom teacher changed due to maternity leave, but since the 6th-grade class stayed together, instead of struggling with social relationships or grades, I became increasingly skilled and enjoyed it.
I proposed performances for class events and wrote scenarios; I, who had been depressed and crushed by my mother, felt as if I had been reborn.

Even so, my mother was not satisfied with me; instead, she said that my grades going up and becoming more active were 'thanks to believing and changing my genetics.'
I worked hard, though.
The objects of comparison expanded from neighborhood children and classmates to the children of families who were also believers, and I remained a person who was always thought of as, 'Compared to that...' with 'That girl over there is... but' or 'That boy is... but.'

Mom, I worked hard, you know?
Because if I wasn't always trying my best, you would say, 'You should be able to do more,' or 'You're a child who can do it if you try,' right?
But you know, no matter how much I did, there was no end to 'more, more.'
Have you ever tried to face me?
Not that I'm hoping for it, though...

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