I can’t marry her

I can’t marry her. My mother will not approve. I require my mother’s APPROVAL. I want to marry her. I want to launch her as my wife. I want her to have my name forever. I want her to give birth to my offspring. I picked her. In a sense, I created her. She is perfect in my mind.

Without my mother’s approval, what I desire is a moot point. I can try to sell my mother on her traits. I’m allowed to “pitch” her (give a presentation on how wonderful she is). However, in the end, my mother gets the final vote. This is the way it has been in my family (and most families) for generations. It is a tradition with strong roots and long histories.

That sucks. Unhappy, pissed off woman giving thumbs down


It gets worse. Not only can’t I marry her, I must marry someone else. My “pitch” failed. The roots and yesterday’s value system prevailed. The stubbornness of history wins again. She was my PARADIGM SHIFT. She would have been a grand mate for life. A wonderful mother of innovative offsprings (plural). She was going to make me Abraham (THE father of a nation so big, his offspring would outnumber the stars in the sky on a clear dessert night).

My mother wins this one. I shall the marry the other. However, I will persist with great determination to sell my mother on the merits of my choosing. One day SOON, I will divorce myself from tradition and marry my love. I will do so by educating my mother.

Who is she? The one I cannot marry.


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