It’s been my mother and me for my whole life, birth father was barely in the picture and by the time I could walk they were divorced and separated. Growing up I wanted to be like my mother and I looked up to her strong personality and urge to be better in life. At some point in life, I started to look at her differently and started to come to the realization, that maybe she isn’t that good of a mother.

I believe I started to look at her differently around the first time I got caught with my self-harm scars. She brought me to church and let everybody ridicule me and tell me I’m going to hell. Then the second or third time I got caught she made it seem like she was the victim and I was to blame.

So I did blame myself. I blamed myself for her losing her husband and for her hating me. Around my middle school years, I knew she wasn’t a perfect mother when I was having a panic attack because I had to move back with her TWO HOURS AWAY from my grandparents. She made me believed it was a good move since I was going into high school and that it would good for us so I just okayed it.

High school was my worst year with her.  Getting put down every day, getting hit, getting embarrassed, and feeling lonely. I felt so alone. I felt like I didn’t have either parent, so I turned to sex. It would just be something that would make me feel better, make me feel like I was wanted. But this isn’t about sex. This about me trying to cope with the trauma I blamed myself for.

Even now I graduated and nothing has changed. I’m still being put down and even more afraid to speak up for myself. I cry every time I’m yelled at and get anxious every time I get a bad feeling. She makes me feel like I’m unwanted and unloved. She is the reason I hate myself.