I Thought Being Mother Teresa Would Make People Love Me
I was pleading for my mother’s love instead
When I was 10, I had to switch classes. I was very nervous on my first day because I did not know anyone. And then I saw her—a girl from my summer camp. The girl that nobody in class ever talked to. A loser, a loner. My new friend Annie.
When I saw her on my first day among my new classmates, I decided to protect and care for her. It was a very subconscious thought, so I never bothered to look into the reasons for it. Not until recently. The problem persists: I continue to try to save all lonely and forgotten souls.
So I am going back to Annie to find out what happened to me that year.
I had met Annie at summer camp. She was quiet, rarely spoke to anyone, and gave the impression of a perfect victim. You know, one of those victims who is always the first to be attacked or bullied.
I had not spent much time with her that summer. But on September 1, when I started a new class, she was the only friendly face I saw. And befriending her seemed easy. And so I did. For the next year or so, I was babysitting her, protecting her from hooligans, reporting to her mother where we went, and so on.
Once, hooligans from our class pelted Annie with snowballs. I saw her hiding under a fence and just stood up and stayed on the frontier until the boys got bored and left. Her mom was happy. Was I?
I did not feel abandoned or lonely. As I slowly made new friends in my class, my need for Annie began to fade.
But I still felt the need to protect lost and lonely souls like her. It is extremely difficult for me to stay away from their problems.
Last year, I had a friend who was also my yoga teacher. I was working on her website, cooking for her daughter, and listening to her complaints because I was saving her. I believed I could do something for her.
Very selfish idea—I know better how you should live your life, so I keep insisting on my righteous way. I thought my friend was a victim.
Wrong. She was a vampire. Saving souls often gets me into trouble. A lost soul begins to feed off my energy, just as my yoga friend did.
Men do the same. They see me, awestruck and excited, and imagine their lives with me. If they can get a little bit of my energy. And I let them, because I am saving them and want to give them a better life.
So, Annie, what have you done to me?
Looking at Annie more closely now as an adult, I realize I have been protecting someone else all these years. Someone very similar to her, someone I had not noticed in decades.
This summer, I went to see my parents. I put off seeing them for two years until their complaints got out of hand. Ok, this is my duty, I thought while buying my ticket.
I have never felt comfortable with my parents, although I was supposed to. At least, I was brought up thinking that way. But having been away for a while helped me see things differently this time.
I saw my mother, quiet, pliable, and obedient, who had always done as she was told. It reminded me of all the times her mother yelled at me for not being like her. Also, all the times at school when my mom should have stood up for me or got me that role in a school play but didn’t. Because of the rules, because it was inappropriate, because who knows what our neighbors might have said.
So I stood up for her. Well, technically, I could not, as she was much older. So I chose the person who was most like my mom without realizing it.
Annie.
And many others.
I have been saving them to do the right thing for myself because my mother didn’t. Saving lost and lonely souls made me feel accepted. I have never felt that my mom ever will.
But does it matter?
This realization taught me that I did not need people to love me because I was saving them. I want them to love me for who I am. Different people may see me from different perspectives, but they accept and love me just as much as I love myself.
I am learning not to be Mother Teresa to those who are lost and lonely. I mostly fail. Last week, I got on a weird date with a guy, only to realize I wanted to save him. He had nothing but work in his life, and my inner Mother Teresa wanted to show him the light. The good news is that I discovered this fixed idea and am working on eliminating it. More or less successfully.
I know it takes time after two decades of sacrificing myself. But the more I notice these thoughts, the more control I have over them. So I am leaving my mom and Annie to live their lives while I learn to live mine.
