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Things I wish my mother told me when I was growing up

For a long time, I was thinking that “blaming” your parents for how you feel or act as an adult is a lame excuse because you are not accepting responsibility for your life or actions.

Oh boy, I was wrong big time.

Last year was a year of discovery for me and a year I started looking deeper into my thoughts and actions. The biggest realization I came upon is that blaming your parents is not wrong.

There are certain responses we developed as kids, unknowingly, because our parents acted a certain way. Now we have to relearn how to act and rewire our brains just so we could function “normally”.

Mostly, I’m not ok with my mothers’ actions, but I’m still at the beginning of my journey. Maybe later I’ll have something to blame my father for.

You are beautiful

A simple and powerful sentence we all wish to hear and believe. My parents never told me that. They never used those words for me or my sister. They did use it for others.

It hurts. A lot.

I’m 33 years old and I don’t feel beautiful. Nor do I believe I am.

When I look in the mirror, “Oh God, you are so ugly”, is what I say to myself. That’s what I see and what others see as well. Or at least, that’s what I believe they see and think when they see me.

It’s ok to feel that way

I grew up thinking there is something wrong with me for feeling like I don’t belong here, like the world would be a better place if I wasn’t there, like the world is just too loud sometimes.

Now I know that it’s ok to feel that way and that there are ways to cope with those feelings and move past them.

My mother kept blaming me for not telling her anything in my teenage years. She never thought that maybe there is a reason it was like that and that the reason is with her and not me.

Even today I don’t think she would understand where I’m coming from and why I feel a certain way.

Thank you for sharing your opinion with me

I was in high school don’t remember the exact age, when my mother got pregnant again. She had a conversation with my father, they made a decision, and then she came to speak to my sister and me and ask us what we think about the situation.

My sister is 4 years older than me so she was in college at a time. Her stand was that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had the kid since we are both capable of taking care of ourselves and we could also help out with the baby.

It was my turn to share what I think. I asked her would our opinion made any difference to her and my father’s decision. She said no. My response was “why are you asking us if our opinion doesn’t matter? I have other things to think about now. (it was something like this, I don’t remember my exact words)

I was instantly labeled as a villain, and they kept bringing that up all the time. Another thing I never told her is how that makes me feel, and that it’s not ok from her side.

I wish she told me “thank you for sharing your opinion with me” and moved on. It would save me so much overthinking in my later years.

Thanks to that situation I feel like my opinion doesn’t matter and don’t share it with anyone.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much I want to let go and free myself from “chains”.

You are the first one to hear this, I’ve never shared it with anyone else. Not even with my diary when I was a teen. It aches even to go back to those events and contemplate about them. It aches even more writing them down, but I know it will help. Writing and telling people about your thoughts and feeling can be healing.

Thank you for reading.

This story was originally published on Medium.

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