I don't remember what I said to broach the subject of birth control. I just remember some of the first words out of my mother's mouth: “You're not pregnant, are you?” “What? No, of course not.” “Not with Dan. Whatever you do, never with Dan. He's not the one for you.”
From there, what was supposed to be a quick chat about birth control turned into a half hour long bash on Dan and my relationship with Dan:
She said that Dan “isn't a man, he's a little boy."
She said we have an unhealthy “enabling” relationship.
She said that Dan is narcissistic, and I'm his codependent.
She distinctly implied that I'm only with Dan for the gifts he gives me.
She basically said I should dump him since he doesn't like washing the dishes.
She compared my relationship with Dan to her failed first marriage to a drunk... who was possibly abusive.
Never mind that Dan is always there when I need him, that he's always willing to help, that he gladly takes care of me when I'm sick. Never mind that Dan is always there to calm me down, prop me up, and catch me when I fall. Never mind that he treats me better than every one else in my life. Never mind that he loves me more than anyone else has before.
Dan has never risen a hand to me in anger. He has no serious vices – he doesn't drink, he's not a crazy partier, he doesn't have any drug or gambling addictions. He is impossibly sweet. He takes care of me. He loves me. He helps me in more ways than I can say. I thought this was how a good relationship was supposed to be?
But no, none of that matters.
What matters is that “he doesn't fit in with the family.” He doesn't do dishes. He didn't cook for me when we lived together. We constantly “enable” each other. He's a mama's boy. His hypoglycemia can make him temperamental. What matters is that we cuddled in front of the fireplace in Washington when I was freezing cold.
I barely fit in with my family;* why would I want him to? He's quiet and reserved, and you've been against him from the get-go. We've reached a compromise – I do dishes and he rubs my constantly aching shoulders. It's win-win. He did cook fairly often, actually, but his days were a lot longer than mine even after I got a job, so I ended up doing most of the cooking while he bought a good 90% of our food because I was dirt poor. Yes, he adores his mother. So what? That translates to how he treats me. How is that a problem? The hypoglycemia is annoying, but he's getting better and we know how to work through it whenever it pops up. I would rather deal with his hypoglycemia than your issues. And, seriously? Cuddling PDA is blacklisted even when I'm freezing cold and he's trying to warm me up?
Oh, and learn what “enable” means. Your stupid is showing.
*Excepting Kelly and Geena – seriously, I luff you guys so hard. I miss you!