Baby, Do You Want to Make Your Mother Crazy?

Once love loses its sense of proportion, it will become a cage trapping each other. Examine paranoid possessiveness and explore the boundaries between love and bondage. I love my daughter. Love, is love. I am thirty-six years old this year, and I suddenly realized that she has been with me safely for sixteen years. A full sixteen years. The child's father? As early as the first year after I gave birth to her, I cheated on her and left. I know clearly that my thoughts are dirty, sick, and unethical. I am her mother, and I should have given her magnanimity, gentleness, and unconditional tolerance. But I couldn't control the possessiveness growing in my heart, and I couldn't control this out-of-bounds love. I have an almost pathological control and paranoia about her. Whenever she takes even half a step out of my sight, I feel flustered, anxious, and restless, as if someone is trying to take my only salvation away from me. I never allow her to make friends casually, not with girls, and even less with boys. I cut off all social interactions with her, and paranoidly wanted to trap her in a cage I built myself, belonging only to me. But my baby never complained. She is docile and well-behaved, becoming more and more dependent on me and clinging to me. To outsiders, we are the most intimate mother and daughter in the world, talking about everything like best friends. No one knows that underneath this intimacy is my selfish and pathological imprisonment. I always tell her every day not to fall in love prematurely and not to be easily tempted by others. But I forgot that her father and I are the most ironic examples of puppy love. Do I hate that man? Hate, deep-seated hatred. I hate that he leaves early and comes home late, is cold and taciturn, and never asks me if I am happy. I hate him for being unkind and unjust. When I was most vulnerable and helpless, he turned around and threw himself into the arms of others. That dark and dilapidated marriage drained all my tenderness and sincerity. But to this day, the love has long since been wiped out, and all that remains is utter disgust. But I'm glad. I'm glad that he never fought for the custody of his daughter. I'm glad that he let go and left my whole world to me. ⚠️Self-protection against lightning Concept: When possession is cloaked in love, warmth turns into shackles.