Such weak immature people. I haven't worried about what some random stranger thought of me since I reached puberty. The only reason I can see for them to concern themselves with our opinion is that, deep down, they know we're right.
Big Mo knows that; what she
really wants is to blow off steam without being called on something, and seeks unanimous approval for all her feelings and actions, no matter how wrong such feelings and actions might be.
And that there's a big part of her disconsolate lostness; she's spent her whole life being told she's right, absolutely right, never wrong, about things. But if she's right, how come she's so wretched and miserable?
Maybe 40, 50, years ago, Big Mo could've been set straight, but now, given her Great Age, I doubt much can be done any more. She's probably doomed to die unhappy and unfulfilled.
Such is the destiny of those who refuse to accept anything less than praise of themselves.