A Child Of - Poem by Amy Jones
Freud’s theory that every boy wants to marry his mother and that every girl wants to be sexually
possessed by her father scares me.
Whether it’s the power of suggestion or whether grossly enough Freud was really onto something,
I’m occasionally afraid that he’s right.
But it’s not the same for all kids.
My dad moved out when I was 3.
And I am endlessly thankful that I do not have a single memory of he and my mother living together.
I used to be angry at them.
When I was 15 and adolescence had made me inevitably emotionally unstable I blamed them for
having a child to save a marriage that was based on advantageous circumstances.
How dare they?
Although I feel close enough to them to ask for money when I need it,
I do not feel close to them at all.
A couple of years ago my father felt like a stranger most days.
When I see mothers and their daughters on documentary shows hugging and talking,
Wrapped up in blankets on a couch,
I make a face and feel tense in my neck and shoulders.
It’s too much.
I just couldn’t bare to be that close with them.
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