I am at a place in my life when I hear another woman discuss what a wonderful mother she has, I tense up and freeze until the moment passes. My mind and body go blank.
Lately, I have described myself as feeling awkward around these situations. I don’t want to take away from someone else’s joyful relationship with their mother, but I truly cannot relate to it at all.
My mom never loved me. In fact, I think it is fair to say she hated me from the moment I was born.
I spent years and years trying to understand what was wrong with me, or what I could have done differently to have had my mother’s love.
It is so hard to sit with the idea that your own mother doesn’t have an ounce of love for you, and would in fact prefer that you be dead.
My mother loved my two older brothers, which made it even harder for me to process as a child.
On any given day my mother would show her hatred of me through her mean words or her sadistic and narcissistic behavior.
I would try so hard to be small and invisible so as to not provoke her, but it never worked.
She hated every ounce of me since the moment I was born, and maybe before.
I have known for a long time that my mother did not love me, but now I am reaching deep down inside me to face the realities of the pain and problems this has caused me throughout my life.
I struggle with loving and being loved.
It’s like the love switch is just turned off in me. I often feel like a robot, and sometimes when I do attempt love, I can get it very wrong.
As an adult, I do not long for my mother’s love. I gave up on that very early in childhood. I know who my mom is, and I want no love from her.
However, I have learned that the longing for a mother’s love does not go away.
I have tried to replace my mother’s love by unsuccessfully trying to get two different therapists to become my replacement moms. I tried to do this with therapists who have good boundaries, so it was a total flop. Plus, because I never had my mother’s love, I was clueless as to what I even wanted from these replacement moms.
People tell me the secret to recovering from this type of deep maternal wound is to parent yourself.
I still don’t have a clue as to how I would heal myself through parenting myself. I am not actually sure this is a real thing, but I have heard it enough.
For today, I will sit with the fact that my mom did not love me, it was not my fault, and it has caused me great pain and damage.
Tomorrow I will see my mom, and will lack human presence around her. I will probably have a moment of feeling sorry for her and thinking how pathetic she is. I will also feel very stressed as I secretly count the minutes until she is gone from my life again.
Even though I was raised by a horrible mom, I somehow managed to become a distant, but loyal daughter for her.
And by the grace of God, I managed to be a fairly good mom to my children, which is quite miraculous as I only had television to model good parenting for me.