Mom. She has always been considered the standard of the purest and brightest love. This is a woman who brought joy, happiness, love. I want to cuddle up to her, cry, or vice versa, rejoice together.
At the age of 14, my mom betrayed me. And to this day I can’t forgive her for that. I’m trying, but I can’t. Even now, when I write this text, tears roll into my eyes.
It would seem that more than 24 years have passed, but the pain does not go away, it does not heal, on the contrary, it increases even more and more intensively. Perhaps because, after all these years, I am simply convinced that she consciously made this choice. Perhaps also because I am a mother myself, and I can’t imagine how you can make a choice between your child and a man.
I was 14. My stepfather hit me in the stomach with his foot, at the moment when I stood up for my mother. For seven years, he beat her. Systematically. It was terrible. Blue body, face, burned eyelids with a soldering iron, threw himself with a knife (scars remained), broke his arm, beat off kidneys, and so on.
And for the first time in my life, I intervened in a fight at the moment when he attacked her, threw her on the sofa and began to beat her on the head, face with his fists. I bumped into him and began to pull him away, and he turned around and kicked me in the stomach. I was bent in half, despite the fact that I flew to the other end of the room from the impact. I fell to the floor, and just began to suffocate from the pain, and from the terrible resentment that a man hit me, a girl weighing 40kg.
At that moment he sobered up and left the room. I had a wild tantrum after I was able to utter at least some sound. I remember how my mother took me in her arms and began to feel sorry for me, and read some conspiracies. I was shaking all over, so much that I couldn’t even pronounce the words clearly, I screamed, roared, and shrank from the pain.
It was the last embrace of my mother and me. I never allowed myself to be hugged again, and I never allowed myself to be pitied.
He was sober in the morning. Strange. He usually didn’t come out of a binge earlier than 2 weeks later. He already knew that I had set conditions for my mother to choose, him or me!
She came up to me and asked, well, where are you going? Do you understand? She asked that… It’s painful and insulting. Probably more painful than that blow, in fact from a complete stranger to me.
Since then, I have never forgiven anyone. From the word-in general.
He’s gone. Not right away. There was another chance. Before he left, he told me that he hated me. Imagine, an adult man hates a fragile girl of 14 years old.
Since then, my relationship with my mother has moved to another level. I became an adult in an instant, and most importantly independent, because I knew…I don’t have protection, I don’t have a wing to hide under, and that I will solve all my problems in life by myself.
Thank you for reading my story. Love your children, and don’t give them a reason to doubt your love and your feelings. Children are the most precious thing in life.