I hate my mother!

What did this title make you feel?

Discomfort? Shock? Do you feel the same way? Or do you harbor similar feelings towards your mother (or another family member) but are still shocked by such a statement?

Let me tell you: It's perfectly okay to feel this way. And it's also okay to openly admit that you hate your mother (all the more beautiful if you love her). I've finally come to terms with expressing it. Let me share my journey with you.

My change of heart began a few years ago. I read a book ("Flieh, Vöglein, flieh" by Manou Enders) where the author described her hatred for her mother. I was taken aback. Not that I hate my mother, but hate? That's a strong word. I'd rather say: I don't like my mother. Who admits to hating their mother? For me, it was unthinkable to voice or even think such a sentiment.

But if it's written in a book, was my aversion to my mother perhaps not so reprehensible? This thought gave me pause, but guilt quickly set in. Was my aversion justified? She raised me, provided a home, cooked for me, and bought me clothes. Shouldn't I be grateful?

I didn't recognize the years of emotional abuse for what they were. I assumed other mothers were the same. I convinced myself that my mother was just strict and that I was a challenging child.

But was I really? Didn't I just want attention and love? To spend time with my mother? Isn't that the essence of motherhood?

Over time, the true extent of her emotional abuse and toxic nature became clear. It was my reality. But this "normality" was soon challenged. My friends and their mothers opened my eyes. The more time I spent with other mothers, the clearer it became how neglected I had been as a child.

My friends' mothers often treated me better than my own did. They showed more interest in me and demonstrated what it felt like to be loved by a mother. It was as if I was discovering a whole new world, a world where mothers love their children unconditionally, support, and uplift them instead of tearing them down and criticizing.

When one of my closest friends became a mother, I saw what genuine maternal love looked like. She loves her child unconditionally. It hurts to know that I never experienced this kind of love. Spending time with her child highlighted the innocence and purity of children. By nature, children are curious, loving, and seek security and love. They don't yet understand the world in all its complexity and rely on the guidance and protection of adults. Seeing the world through the innocent and unconditional eyes of my friend's child made me realize how absurd and unjust it is to blame a child for the emotional abuse inflicted by a parent.

These experiences shifted my perspective. The guilt faded. I realized I had every right to be angry with her, even to hate her. I wasn't the problem. She was the adult; I was the child. It was her choice to treat me the way she did.

This realization was liberating. I could finally say: I hate my mother. It was a long journey to accept this truth and voice it. But it was necessary for healing and moving forward.

The journey to self-acceptance and healing wasn't easy. There were many tears, anger, and confusion. But there was also support, love, and understanding from those closest to me. My friends, who showed me their own family dynamics, were a beacon during this tumultuous time. They showed me that it's not normal to be constantly criticized and put down by a parent. They showed me that love should be unconditional, especially a mother's love for her child.

Take-Home Message: Sometimes we need to question our reality to realize that what seems normal to us doesn't align with the norm. It's essential to love oneself and break free from toxic relationships to lead a fulfilling and happy life.