"You don't deserve this" - Presents as a means of control over someone

About half a decade ago, my mum gifted me a exaggeratedly fluffy winter jacket. While being meant as a gesture of kindness, this jacket was completely useless where I was living back then, a place where winter temperatures wouldn't drop below 10 degrees Celsius. I would walk the dog with nothing but a singlet underneath, and still would break out in sweat within minutes.

Because here is the thing: My mum never gets presents with the person in mind. According to herself, she gets presents she would like for herself, so that if the gifted person doesn't like the present, she can keep it. Not without being offended, of course.

Presents can act as a means of control.

When she gifts something she really likes (for herself), she requests constant updates on it. Every few weeks, I received an email with the following questions:

"Do you still have the jacket? Are you using it? You are not giving it away, are you?"

The burden of this fully hit me when it was time for me to leave that country and move halfway across the globe. I was determined not to use an expensive container shipment service and reduced my life down to two suitcases. My decision was immediately met by "You are not giving away the jacket when you move, right?", and to my distress, the immense fluffiness of said jacket took up almost a third of my suitcase. 

Since it was clear to me that the next question about the jacket was just around the corner, and that my mum would be offended to death if I donated it because I was "required to return it to her" if I didn't want it anymore, I ended up sending it by parcel and paying almost $100 for shipping. 

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My relationship to my mum's presents has always been conflicted. Growing up, I am now fairly certain she had untreated OCD, constantly obsessed with cleaning and keeping order. I distinctively remember her checking the creases of my coat to check if I had gone out earlier, as if I was just another object to control and keep in order. 

Presents slotted right into this behaviour. I was always showered with them, but never without strings attached. Most presents came with comments: 

"Actually, you don't really deserve this, but because I love you, I will give it to you anyway." 
"Look how many things you have, you are so spoiled." 

These were usually in reference to gifts I didn't ask for. None of the presents ever felt like they were mine, they felt like a loan of patience from my mother. Like I owed her one with no means of paying back. 

In the end I only associated one emotion with presents: Guilt. 

Presents really were only a tool to control me emotionally. 

As I grew older, gifts grew increasingly transactional and controlling. It felt as if she thought she could simply purchase my love, but deep inside knew that this wouldn't work, and instead embarked on a constant checking on her gifts, as if making your daughter drag unwanted presents across the globe meant that you had a loving relationship. 

Other presents soon joined the jacket and had to be taken anywhere across the globe. I will never forget the year every single presents was unicorn themed. The confused look of my then-boyfriend "You don't even like unicorns. Why does she send all this?" And the constant questions if I still had xyz unicorn item, making any attempt to communicate to her that I didn't actually want unicorn accessories impossible.

In a way, I feel ungrateful writing this because she breaks out in genuine joy when she sees me wearing one of her presents, but it never felt like she genuinely cares if I actually liked any of her gifts. The gifts just remind me of how little she knows about me and how little she cares (all the unicorns in the world, but then she forgot about university graduation ceremony).

Something finally cracked in me the other day. I was lying in my bed and staring at the jacket hanging over a chair intently. I asked my fiance "Does anything about this jacket remind you of me?" and he replied "I mean, it's fluffy but it certainly doesn't look like something you would get for yourself."

I knew I had to let it go. Let go of the years of obligation to drag presents across the globe. Feeling guilty for receiving presents. Feeling unable to communicate what I was wishing for instead. And letting go of the emotional control carrying around these items symbolized.

So today I packed the jacket and dropped it off at a clothing donation point (and added a unicorn lamp on top). In a way, it hurts. I know that part of my mum wants to purchase my love which means that there is something about me that she does love, after all. And it really was a fluffy, warm jacket. But half a decade across the globe is enough.