Or this: A Sicilian capo regime, henchman of a Mafia don. The don is double crossed, but his henchman feels the betrayal more intensely because of fierce loyalty to the don. He says, invoking revenge, "Give me the order. Commanda mi!" The godfather rises from his seat behind a mahogany desk and walks toward the window. He ponders for a minute and replies, "Get my mother, I will ask her what should be done."
Or even this: A new bride, on her honeymoon at Hotel de Crillon in Paris with her beloved groom, settles into their suite and notices another door on the west bedroom wall. Curious, she opens it. "Hello! Surprise!" her new mother-in-law cries out from across the adjoining room. The bride is aghast. She is looking forward to a wild, romantic and memorable honeymoon, which they actually did end up having three years later, separately, with newfound partners.
How about this: A doting wife is in bed with her husband who is exhibiting the first signs of a cold. She attempts to minister to him but he refuses. He rolls away from her and reaches for the telephone. He dials and after a moment or so says, "Hello? Ma, I’m sick."
Heaven forbid this: A dapper gentleman is down on one knee, holding out a five-carat, cushion-cut diamond and platinum engagement ring to a beautiful dame standing starry-eyed and giddy above him, extending her left hand. A cell phone rings. The man says to her, "Oh, sorry, that’s mine. Could you please get it?" The woman fishes for the phone in his briefcase and takes the call. She hands it grudgingly to the genuflecting gentleman and says, "It’s your mama!"
American Heritage Dictionary defines "mama’s boy" as – (mamez boy) noun. A boy or man characterized by unusual closeness to his mother and often by timidity, indecisiveness, insecurity and overly refined manners.
I define it as – a boy or man whose mother "washes his underwear," to denote the disturbing depth of free access the mother has to her son’s personal space and life.
Whenever I chance upon my two grownup daughters aged 22 and 20 and their girlfriends hanging around the house, I join them for a few laughs. There is always an animated exchange of pleasantries and jokes. There are detailed accounts of their misadventures and when the topic digresses to some new, hot boy around town, I always pull rank, butt in and ask in jest, "Does his mother wash his underwear?" It is alarming how their answers are most often affirmative. They are all too familiar with what I mean because I have made it clear that the only thing to do when pursued by a mama’s boy is to sprint for one’s life in the opposite direction. I tell them that if they know anyone who is involved with a mama’s boy they must take pity and show them the easiest way out: An evening of overindulgence at an all-you-can-eat restaurant, then go straight to sleep after for a death by bangungot, or a similarly pointless fate, which is still one up over life in the shadows of a son-puppeteer.
This mama’s-boy syndrome has no known cure. It never goes into remission or dormancy. It remains on active phase for life. Only a radical and bloody amputation of apron strings can eradicate this disease.
Is this syndrome as prevalent in society today as it used to be in older days? I would like to believe that with Internet , globalization and the onslaught of media, we would have learned from our western counterparts to simply raise independent and well-adjusted men who will be functional and nurturing partners to our daughters, fathers to our grandchildren and leaders of our country. I would have thought that this generation, more than the preceding ones, enjoys the privilege of having more mobility in terms of travel, work and study in far-off places where they are exposed to alternate lifestyles and modern issues.
It is unfortunate that we are handicapped to begin with by several factors within our culture, which are major contributors to this mama’s-boy syndrome. Our being clannish, our concept of the extended family, where members stay under the same roof beyond a given period of time, is considered abnormal in other societies. Filipino bachelors well above the age of 30, who continue to live with their mothers and are waited on hand and foot is common practice. It is but to us, just a matter of course.
But we should be scandalized! Our sensibilities should be offended! These are grown, able men who should strike out on their own. I think leaving the home should not be an option for adult Filipino children but a duty. It is imperative that they learn to fend for themselves by moving out of their comfort zones, by cooking their own food, washing their own clothes, and experiencing the world by themselves. Being away from one’s circle of convenience, from the security and comforts of the family home and from the clutches of overprotective mothers, insures that one has experienced and survived the tests of self-sufficiency, homesickness and resourcefulness. Complacent Filipino bachelors who have maids skulking about in their homes waiting to be of service, who have mothers to arrange and rearrange their lives and fathers to fund their various causes, are tragedies waiting to happen.
Who is this mama’s boy we speak of? What is he like? He is the overly sensitive, utterly helpless bachelor who still lives with his mother. He attends parties, even weddings and does all the rounds of social events with his mother on his arm. He calls home habitually to check in on Mama and vice versa. He is indecisive and without his mother’s concurrence he may be incapable of making decisions as inconsequential as shopping for an article of clothing. He drives her to the hair salon and waits patiently until Mama is all coiffed up. He leafs through glossy magazines ogling beautiful women, whom Mama would never approve of. He does the groceries with her, trails her along the aisles pushing the cart, and argues with her about nutrition facts, price increases, the state of perishable goods and the butcher’s latest haircut. He sneaks around dating a woman he adores but whom Mama abhors so he holds his breath until she finds out, makes an ultimatum and eventually breaks it off. In extremely rare situations, when the mother does take a temporary liking to the girl, she becomes privy to the entire goings-on in that relationship because she is her son’s only confidante. Typically judgmental, malicious and meddling Mama will blame the girl for all that is wrong with the world, including the gradual implosion of Iraqi society, the weight problems of Oprah Winfrey and the yet goal-less stint of Brazil’s Ronaldo in this 2006 World Cup. She will fabricate, formulate and facilitate sinister plots to turn her son against the girl if not altogether accosting her, herself. What this situation shows is simply a hiccup in monster Mama’s otherwise consistently angry and disagreeable personality; one that is incapable of favorable feelings for others.
Who is this domineering mother, this Electra figure who raises her son in an environment of emotional incest and codependence, assuring him of future dysfunctional relationships with all females, whether romantic, platonic or professional? Who is this manipulative woman, who raises her son in a relationship founded on power play, control and guilt? What is she like? She is most likely of the old-school mindset: narrow and stuck in arcane beliefs. She probably has had limited exposure to alternate lifestyles and parenting styles of progressive families here and abroad and is not attuned to modern issues. Her mind is consumed with only the small things: people, places and parties. She most certainly has been unfulfilled in all her relationships with the men in her life, starting from her father, her husband, her bosses and her male friends, if any. She has fears of abandonment; of being alone. She has grave issues that make her a needy, clingy individual. In desperation, she contrives this symbiotic relationship with her son to secure for herself a lifetime ally, unaware of the great disfavor she is bestowing on him. She has a foolproof built-in radar for her son’s whereabouts, a mental tracking device, something like the electronic ankle bracelets of parolees that have GPS (global positioning systems), except that hers is innate–an essential part of the mother-enabler’s psyche. She will sic on her son onto the crevices of the earth’s crust and if not personally, through his cell phone which will ring unto eternity until it is answered.
The CIA is wasting a vulgar amount of money, time and manpower in tracking down Osama Bin Laden, to no avail, when all they actually need is a Filipino domineering mother who will find Bin Laden in a heartbeat. And so revolves the pattern of the dysfunctional male. A neurotic wife mothers a son and turns him into a mama’s boy. This mama’s boy comes of age, marries and predictably ends up making his wife miserable. His miserable wife in turn begets a son and dominates him. thus perpetuating this evil phenomenon of how victims victimize.
We are all tasked with breaking this cycle. Father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, take stock of the relationships in your home and in your life. If any of them resemble the syndromes outlined, take the closest axe, kitchen cleaver, garden hoe or anything sharp or pointed within arm’s length and hack away at will at these disastrous mother-son enmeshments and save someone’s future.
Every day the distance between mothers and young sons must be renegotiated. But between the ages of 12 and 15, the emotional separation must be completed without rage or rancor. An unhealthy mother-son attachment can be most destructive and most painful because it crushes the male spirit and scars the male ego for life.
This is not about mothers withholding their love for their sons but a calculated and gradual retreat to allow for their sons’ freedom. It is about a show of trust and confidence, not a curtailment of maternal rights. Ultimately it is about raising stable and happy individuals to populate this already troubled world we call home.