Echoes
May 31, 2026
This morning while I was cooking my meat and potatoes in the hostel kitchen in Istanbul, the owner, who was tidying up, said something to me in Turkish. There was one other person in the kitchen — a girl who kind of reminded me of my mom. By now, they know I don’t speak Turkish so she translated, “Clean it after you’re done.” She said this in a slightly annoyed tone, pointing to the air fryer.
I carried on with my business and readied my meal. But, I felt something strange. I wondered if I had done something to upset this person. I felt an urge for reparations or to apologize.
These days my own reasoning is in the driver’s seat. Impulses and emotions are more of an overbearing backseat driver. I knew I wasn’t responsible for this person’s emotions, but I still felt like it was my fault, or that I needed to fix it.
I’ve always wanted what was best for the people around me, at my expense or not. The reason is simple… my mother was constantly blaming me for her unhappiness. It’s quite clear now. She was in a bad mood all the time and made sure I knew it was because of me… something I did, or didn’t do. Not practicing the piano, not studying, not doing the dishes, not cleaning, playing too much.
I grew up in a chamber of guilt and shame, the echoes of her yelling reminding me that I was deeply flawed and lacking.
When I went back to Nashville earlier this year, I saw my mother again. She tried to hug me, which I politely declined. She pleaded and said it was for her peace of mind.
I couldn’t communicate what I wanted to say. I wanted to say, “exactly.” It’s for her, not for me. She’s never acknowledged nor apologized for the way she treated me, nor considered nor tried to understand why I may be feeling the way I do.
Maybe in the past she wasn’t the best mother because of her circumstances… depression, unresolved trauma, whatever. The point is we grow, learn from our mistakes, and make sure not to repeat them.
I don’t know if she’s even capable of that kind of introspection, or even thinking about anyone else but her.
I cleaned and washed the air fryer. I was taking up the sink space, so the girl left her dish on the counter and left. I washed it, too, and finished up, feeling a bit of relief that I couldn’t get yelled at for not cleaning her dish.
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