How has it taken me 29 years to see you for what you are?
29 years I have had a distorted image of you. I’ve managed to protect you all the while hurting myself. That is the story of my life you know, you coming first. You did it to me and then I took over where you left off and continued to put you before me, too.
It’s like I’ve had blurred vision my entire life. How on earth did I ever look at you and think you beautiful? Why the hell did I look to you for guidance? Why did I come to you when I was crying just to be made to feel ashamed? Why did I do things to please you when that was an unachievable task? I killed off who I really was for you and even that fake version of me wasn’t good enough.
The answer to that is that I did all those things because I had to. Because feeling the pain of the truth is horrific. Having to see, understand and accept – to FEEL in your soul that your mother is a selfish bitch is actually pretty soul-destroying.
It’s weird though, you would think now that I understand it isn’t me I would feel happier, relieved, but actually what I feel is anger. Pure anger. I have so much anger inside me at the moment it is giving me a physical headache. Your face keeps popping up in my head and I hate it. Go away!
I suddenly see the ways in which you not only didn’t protect me – you actively put me in danger – repeatedly and why? For your gain. Always for your gain. Do you even understand that mothers are meant to protect their children? Do you even understand that is what was expected from you when you decided to become a mother? I genuinely am not sure whether you think people have children for their own gain or whether you just sucked at being a parent. I’m not sure which is worse, which I’d rather?
I have had some random memories come back the last few days, seemingly out of nowhere and it’s like someone is showing me things which I cannot deny. Things I had previously forgotten about, repressed, pushed away because I was protecting myself from feeling what I feel today.
You sicken me. You are literally disgusting.
How could you?
I want to hold you and shake you and scream at you and ask you WHY????? But what is the point? There is no answer that would make sense, no answer that would make me feel any better and no answer that would undo everything you have done.
What is wrong with you? It’s like you were born missing some crucial parts – like, maybe a heart? A brain? I’d say you were sick but that feels unfair to people who are unwell.
Children are innocent. Children need love, acceptance, understanding they need protection. All you did was treat me like a handy little mate to accompany you in your quests to meet men or to go to the shop and buy you mixers for your drinks. The rest of the time I was purely an inconvenience. But I didn’t ask to be born!!!!
I don’t get it, why would you want me there? Why would you want me to have to do things with men your age when I was so young? I can’t see how that benefited you in any way? Please don’t tell me it was a some sort of protection. God that makes me feel sick.
It’s sick. It’s like you wanted me to be abused and I can’t wrap my head around this. Jesus my head hurts. Why would you want your daughter to go through those things?
I knew that narcissists are selfish but selfish doesn’t even come close, does it? Selfish seems far too nice. You are evil.
I can’t bear to look at you. When you text me and your name flashes up on my phone, I HATE It. It makes me angry. When you turned up at the pub the other night, you ruined my entire evening. You ruin my moment, my day. WHAT DO YOU WANT????????????????? I want you to leave me alone. I want you to leave me alone forever. I want you to never contact me again. I never want to have to pacify you again. I am so fed up with putting on some front that makes it possible to get through another pointless and empty encounter with you. Why do I do it? For who’s benefit? It sure as hell isn’t for mine. It’s for YOURS again. Everything always for you.
How do you do this? You get everyone to do things for you, you make everyone think you are beautiful, fun, caring, kind, gentle and you are none of those things. None. You might be able to fool some of your “friends” because they see you in limited amounts but who has spent the most time with you out of everyone in your entire life – me. That’s who. Because men haven’t stuck around and neither have friends. I, unfortunately had no bloody choice did I? I was trapped with you and even I ran away from you, even I went to stay with other people and even I moved out as early as I could afford to.
Yet you have the cheek to tell people who you can’t understand why “TT never comes round” why “TT never phones”. Awww, poor you. That must be horrible. It must really hurt you to feel so unloved by someone who is “meant” to love you. How does that make you feel? Does it make you feel like you are missing something? Like there is a hole in your heart? Like you are faulty, broken – no of course it doesn’t because it is NEVER your fault is it. You have no ability whatsoever to put yourself in anyone else’s shoes, no ability to take any blame to look at a situation with open eyes and see if perhaps you could have done/do something differently. To apologise. Ha! The thought of you apologising is so unbelievable that it’s almost funny! You are perfection in your eyes and that amazes me today because you see perfection and beauty and I see the devil.
I don’t know how I am going to be able to tolerate seeing you now. I don’t know if I can ever look at you again.
I want to move away, run away, I want to have an excuse to never see or speak to you again but even more, I don’t want to have to hear about you from anyone. That isn’t possible unfortunately and so I still feel trapped. How do you do this to me? I can’t move because I have commitments here but I want to. Some physical distance would be lovely. I had a bit of physical distance once but you managed to convince me to come back to you and my sister – I jumped at the idea you missed me and wanted me closer to you. What a fool. No actually, not a fool, I was just still caught up in hoping to somehow win your love and who could blame me for that. It took a long time to give up that hope.
Having said that, running away from you isn’t the answer – though it is a fantasy. Running away won’t change anything really but it feels good in my head. I’d move to Australia, you wouldn’t come and visit and that would take all blame and guilt away from me. How lovely. But realistically, you don’t come and visit now anyway so that wouldn’t solve anything. I just hate the fact that you could be around. You could be in the shop or the restaurant or you could be at a pub…. Keeping me on my toes, constantly living in fear. I don’t like that and living somewhere else (like the other side of the world) would stop that apprehension I guess.
You are a monster. An evil, bitter, twisted, psychotic monster. An ugly, red-eyed, wrinkly faced, nasty, cold arsehole of a monster and you have the cheek to call yourself my mother. Anyone’s mother actually.
A mother is everything you are not. I haven’t ever had a mother and I sure as hell don’t have one now. I don’t want to call you that. I haven’t been able to call you that for a while but right now the word makes me want to vomit. I didn’t have a mother and I didn’t have a “home” either. The idea that home is where the heart is, is where you are most relaxed was foreign to me growing up. It is only now with [boyfriend] that I am starting to understand that feeling. No wonder I used to cry when I came home from weekends with Nan. Leaving a “homely” environment and returning to hell with you. How could you make an innocent little girl feel so lonely and so unwanted? How didn’t you see the sadness in her eyes and just want to hold her?
Last night I was watching a programme where the contestant’s parents arrived and they all cried and hugged each-other and told their adult kids how proud they were of them and I cried. I cried because I have never had that and I wanted it so badly. You have never done that and neither has Dad. The loss was so obvious. I took my stepson out shopping yesterday and when I walked into the shopping centre, had a sudden memory of you and Nan putting me in that indoor child-care/play centre place for hours whilst you two shopped, child-free. I hated it there. I cried the whole time and you didn’t care. I felt that pain in my chest yesterday and it nearly floored me. How could you? I could suddenly remember sitting on the floor with my knees pulled into my chest crying and crying and knowing I had hours left until you would come back to pick me up. I felt so alone.
You ripped away from me the chance to grow up feeling safe. Safe, loved, warm, accepted.. and plenty more where that came from. How dare you. How could you?
You are hollow. You are a shell of a woman with nothing inside but greed, envy and venom. I don’t feel related to you at all. I don’t feel like we are alike in any way. I am so pleased that I didn’t morph into what you wanted me to. I thank my lucky stars that I didn’t turn into you. I am twice the woman you will ever be because I’ve survived your abuse for all of my life and somehow I still managed to hold onto my kindness. I must be resilient despite what you call me. I must have strength despite what you say.
So now I am 29 years old and I don’t have to please you anymore what do I do about this? I don’t even know where to start and the worst thing about it all, is that you are so totally clueless. Although in a way that is a blessing too. It’s like I get to plan my safe escape and you can’t do anything about it. I get to work out what I want for a change and all the while, you are totally unaware. The power is mine for once.
It’s all very hard to comprehend and right now I am struggling to contain all the feelings I’m having. It’s weirdly hypocritical that I have so much anger towards you, so much desire to get away from you and yet I have absolutely no desire to speak to you about it, to try to make you see, I have no desire to try and make this right. None whatsoever….. it’s like I’m just done with you and that is a very strange way to feel about your mother.
For now I plan to just sit with these feelings and see how they develop. I’m not acting out or trying to get your attention by being loud or naughty. I am waiting to decide what is best FOR ME.