My mother: “what if you bring a girl home and she sees all those ponies. She’s going to think you’re weird" 

In my head: “then I don’t want to have a relationship with some superficial asshole." 

 I love my mother dearly, but fuck it drives me up the wall when she gives me grief over my interests.

Nothing I like is ever good enough for her, and she keeps pestering me to stop liking the things I do like and to show interest in "normal things”