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@Im FiNe

My husband--Socionics ESFj never gossips. My mother--same type, however: Lived for it.


@attic

My mother, also mentally disordered--or "ill" as the medical model puts it, would hound us kids to do everything the way she did, and what she did:

She liked The Price is Right; Bonanza, Big Valley, whatever? We should; and she'd nag until we gave in, or didn't, then she'd pout, grumble, and disrupt what we were doing.

I remember her making spaghetti every week, and for some reason, when I was about 13, she decided to push my having white bread with it. I didn't want bread. The pasta was too heavy for me, and the bread? I didn't want it. "Why not?" she'd ask, "It's good, have some." And she wouldn't relent until I had the bread; this satisfied her. I picked up the habit and ate bread with spaghetti--no other pasta, until I stopped eating spaghetti.

Same with coffee. I didn't drink coffee. So when I came over for a visit--I was 19-21, same thing, "Have some coffee." "I don't want any." "Why not?" "I just don't like it." "It's good, have some," pouting, cajoling, on and on... until I gave in.

I have a sensitivity to coffee; makes my heart race, my skin flush, I even feel a bit paranoid. So what: She wanted me to drink it.

The list is lengthy with food.

When I was 14, she started hiding my books, saying, "You don't ever talk to me," and I retorted, "This isn't the way to get me to do it."

My husband said she was the most manipulative person he ever met. She pushed him when he came with me to visit. We were in our 30s by then. And after, too, the same thing: She would push food, tee vee programs, whatever she liked, he needed to like and do or watch it. Craziness.

He isn't like that at all. And he doesn't think everyone should be the same and get along.

For him, he really likes group activities, being a part, and he has a way of saying "No thanks" that doesn't offend most people, ex. He is a vegetarian; he doesn't bring it up; doesn't push it on anyone; and he will prepare meat dishes for those who eat meat.

I'm glad I didn't know his personality "type" was the same as my mother's when we first met. It might have gone down so differently, and I would have missed out on literally, "The love of my life."


Thanks (both of you) for weighing in. Lord, some people under various banners can be such a pain in the tuckus.
 
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