Do I Hate My Mother?

I blamed her for literally everything.

When I silently needed her, I loathed her from afar.

She is everything I promised I would not be to my own (future, potential) children. I guess I do not want to be educated, healthy, honest and have clear boundaries, because that is who my mother is.

My mother taught me a lot of valuable things.

The problem was that I did not receive verbal affirmations from her, which I was so desperately looking for.

I resented my mother for having her own voice, identity and goals, asides, apart and above those of being a mother.

My mother is not like other mothers; having children is not her be all, end all and she is very vocal about it.

When I was a child, we struggled to make meaningful connections, something she has admitted to me and I to her.

We went from strangers to best friends, somewhere along the line.

I was hard on her and mean to her because we did not have a typical mother-daughter relationship, I was envious of others and saw only what my relationship was lacking, not its unique values.

What we have is different, but special, all the the same.

As a society, we expect and hold mother’s up to a much higher parenting standard than that which we expect of our fathers.

Society makes motherhood a job and fatherhood a heroic stance in the household.

She is a human being and her title of Mother is hers alone to define and not mine to create.

I write about issues that are near and dear to my heart, with the hope that my stories, experiences, and struggles may empower others:

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