我曾经很喜欢她、现在也是，但目前无法尊重她了。大三的时候，刚和Daiga在一起的时候，我记得第一个一起过的感恩节，我跟他回他们家了。Izumi桑真的很和蔼、很快乐、很好奇，看到我笑嘻嘻的，好像什么都好奇、又有点小心翼翼、不想打草惊蛇的感觉。事实证明她是对的，我就是个很容易被打草惊的蛇。

我很紧张，不是因为是男朋友的母亲，是因为我害怕我自己的母亲。和有好感的女性相处的时候，我总是一方面希望自己可以被喜欢和接纳、过于在意对方的想法、希望获得肯定，却也会在对方不赞同我、批评我、甚至公开侮辱我的时候，长时间忍气吞声到爆发。我猜我对Izumi桑有一定的好感，才忍了她这么久。她确实很可爱，她总是好奇我在做什么菜、在好奇我在看什么、会对我的言论哈哈大笑。我想，真好，原来我也可以和年长的女性有健康的友谊。

2020年被救护车送进医院的时候，我在 Akron(OH) 他们家。后来她也一直照顾我，我也分担家务、康复期间尽量做些事情分散精力。我当时不被允许单独生活，我后来的大半年都不被允许单独居住。19年下半年我开始滑入重度抑郁，在医院开的药没有帮助，我不断呕吐、卧床不起。我妈很担心，但也不会停止尖酸刻薄。我生日的时候，我妈说要不要庆祝，我都不知道我还能不能好了。我买了机票，飞回去找Daiga，希望换个环境休息一阵子、会变好。我不知道我是怎么坐上飞机的，但自从那时候到现在，我一直恐机。

我很感谢她，自那以后每次大事小事我都跟她说说，她也会给我一些建议。后来她也会问我建议。我那时候总是把我的一些邮件寄到她家，她也会拍照给我看，问我需不需要。一直到后来我跟Daiga分开，和芝加哥某前男友在一起、我也认为她应该认识，并且把他带去见她。这件事一直被前男友觉得很奇怪，在我看来好像很顺理成章。我们离开的时候我哭了，我以为我再也没机会和她成为家人。没想到现在变成这样。

她对我似乎很关心、很好奇、很喜欢，但她对她孩子想做的事情、和他们自己的自由意志似乎不太有耐心、也不愿意聆听、不把对方当成有独立思想的个体、更加像是需要配合她过家家的玩伴、或者是服从命令安排的下属。她希望她的孩子按照自己的偏好，包括在家里说话音量、说话的方式、语气语调，相互交往的方式。这些不可能被规定的事情，居然被规定了。当我也成为家里的新成员，成为和她孩子等同的存在，我也开始被同样地对待。她觉得愧疚，她不好意思给我特别待遇，但其实，我们所有人都应该被 “特别对待”。这并不是“特别对待”，只是因材施教，承认和接受人与人的不同。

我躺在Ryo小时候长大的床上，我想，原来这是Daiga和美音从小到大在家的感受：窒息、无声、没有回音、不被听到。我曾经以为他们家幸福美满、不像我们家这么多狗血剧情。但后来才知道，他们完全避开所有应该交谈的冲突，勉强的、死板的、客套的保持一个对孩子来说冷冰冰、但对父亲来说似乎五脏俱全的家。我不知道哪个更惨。

I used to really like her—and I still do—but at this point, I can no longer respect her.

Back in junior year, when Daiga and I had just gotten together, I remember the first Thanksgiving we spent together—I went with him to his family’s house. Izumi-san was truly kind, cheerful, and curious. When she saw me smiling, she looked like she was curious about everything, but also a bit cautious, as if she didn’t want to startle me. And it turns out she was right—I really am a snake that gets startled easily.

I was nervous—not because she was my boyfriend’s mother, but because I was afraid of my own mother. When I’m around women I feel drawn to, I often have this need to be liked and accepted, I care too much about what they think, I crave their approval—and yet, when they disapprove of me, criticize me, or even publicly humiliate me, I tend to endure it quietly for a long time until I finally explode. I guess I must have genuinely liked Izumi-san, otherwise I wouldn’t have tolerated her for so long. She really was quite sweet—always curious about what I was cooking, what I was watching, and she would laugh out loud at my comments. I thought to myself, wow—maybe I can have a healthy friendship with an older woman.

In 2020, when I was taken to the hospital by ambulance, I was staying at their home in Akron, Ohio. She continued to take care of me afterwards, and I helped out with chores and tried to stay busy during my recovery. At that time, I wasn’t allowed to live alone. For the better part of the next half year, I still wasn’t allowed to live alone. I had started to slip into major depression in the second half of 2019, and the medication I was prescribed in the hospital didn’t help. I was constantly vomiting, unable to get out of bed. My mother was worried, but she never stopped being sharp-tongued and harsh. On my birthday, she asked me if I wanted to celebrate—and I didn’t even know if I was going to make it. I bought a plane ticket and flew back to see Daiga, hoping a change of environment would help me recover. I don’t even know how I managed to get on that flight—but since that day, I’ve been afraid of flying.

I was very grateful to her. Ever since then, I would tell her about every little thing and every big thing, and she would give me advice. Later, she even started asking me for advice. Back then, I often had my mail sent to her house—she would take photos of it for me and ask if I needed anything. Even after Daiga and I broke up and I started dating someone else in Chicago, I still felt she should meet him, so I took him to see her. That visit always struck my ex as odd, but to me it felt completely natural, like part of growing up. When we left, I cried. I thought I would never again have the chance to be part of her family. I never expected things would end up like this.

She seemed to really care about me, was curious about me, and liked me—but when it came to what her own children wanted to do, or their sense of free will, she seemed to have very little patience. She didn’t seem willing to listen or see them as individuals with independent thought. More like playmates who were supposed to go along with her fantasy family life, or subordinates expected to obey orders. She wanted her children to match her preferences—even down to the volume of their voices at home, how they talked, their tone, the way they interacted with others. Things that should never be regulated somehow were regulated. And once I became part of the family, became someone on equal standing with her children, she started treating me the same way. She felt guilty—she didn’t want to give me special treatment—but in truth, all of us should be treated “specially.” That’s not “special treatment”—that’s simply adapting to the person, acknowledging and accepting differences between individuals.

Lying on the bed Ryo grew up in, I thought—so this is what Daiga and Mion must have felt their whole lives at home: suffocated, voiceless, no echo, never heard. I used to think their family was full of warmth and happiness, unlike the messy drama in mine. But I later realized, they simply avoided every single conflict that should’ve been confronted, maintaining a forced, rigid, overly polite household that felt cold and distant for the children—but seemingly complete and “functional” for the father. I honestly don’t know which is worse.