My mother hates me poem

She is dead now, the Screaming One who once gave birth to more children than she could raise or nurture; just one would have been beyond her. She is silent now, her sharp, shrill tongue, creating faults and laying blame, has finally ceased. I am relieved to see my mother go. She is dead. It was odd to see the breathing corpse immobile, but alive, resembling my mother — That SHE who terrorized my life, tortured me with screamed demands.

My mother? What am I nx degree symbol do?

my mother hates me poem

She could not speak or move, but gave more affection than in sixty years. I could regret all we missed and not fear her anger. The last four days I saw her, bedfast unable to talk, I could finally speak after being forbidden for over sixty years. Whenever she looked at me, she frowned. I was first suicidal when I was two. Her screaming about my defectiveness made me believe I had ruined her life. She spent the next decade and a half trying to destroy me and any independence and confidence I may have had.

By age eleven I knew several ways to kill myself. I had experienced so much pain by then, and had been screamed at so often, that I ruled out any methods that would cause more pain, or that might not work. Sleeping pills sounded best: just go to sleep and never wake up! That was attractive. But, I had no access to such pills nor could I buy them or steal them. Gas was next. Eventually, I gave up. When I was sixteen I had two mental breakdowns and lost my sense of the physical world.

I struggled to go through the motions of daily life. Tying my shoes was a struggle. I was saved by whispering pine trees in the front yard that soothed me and brought me back long enough to escape to college. While in college I read about abusive relationships and learned that if a child knows that at least one person loves them, that knowledge will keep the child alive. In an instant I recognized the one way I could have killed myself, but some part of my brain must have blocked it out.

Her house was half a mile across the pasture. An account of my first successful but harrowing trip at two years old has been published. I learned, and remembered, a lot in the writing of that piece. I try to transform my pain into insights that might help other people who have been in similar situations and increase awareness that parents can be brutal to their children.

When I was four, my mother forbade me to talk. Instead, I eventually wrote notes to her. Now, I write poems. Smashed face first into the ground I see tiny grains of dirt. With these I make small exquisite jewels. I have nothing else to use. The mother before that also died when her children were young.

My mother was abandoned and alone at three years old. The dominoes kept falling generation after generation.M y dearest daughter, you say you hate me. You say this with all the venom your year-old soul can muster. Your eyes contract, you search deep within yourself to find all the hatred you have ever known and you give this to me.

You hurl it, throw it, slam it, scream it, sob it, shove it in my face. Close and menacing. Every word and sentence I speak is dissected, twisted, turned upside down and then delivered back to me with the most negative interpretation possible. Every attempt at physical contact — stroke, hug, kiss, fleeting touch — is rejected.

You recoil from me. You avoid and evade me. You have stopped talking to me, yet you accuse me of not understanding. I know so little; I want to know so much. Nothing is ever the right thing. To do or to say. I am not your friend, I am your mother. Nor do I want to be your friend, not yet, but there is something in me that still hopes this might be possible one day. Our relationship is changing from purely parental to something more akin to mentoring as you step out into your life and make your own mistakes.

But you will not accept my guidance and as I watch you whirl through life, so destructive, my heart breaks for you. I get it wrong all the time, but I am trying my best and I am as inexperienced at being a mother of a teenager as you are at being one. Today I walked for an hour in the evening sunshine sobbing at the loss of you.

Deep primal sobs racked my soul, the tears would not stop. I miss you. So much. I am at a loss. My friends and the books tell me you will come back to me. I am afraid, my child, of the possibility that you will not. There are minutes, hours and days where I do not want to have anything to do with you because your behaviour is so abhorrent and hurtful. I do not know this person who hurls abuse and vitriol as if the words have no impact. Or perhaps you do it exactly because the words will have an impact, which leaves me wondering why you wish to hurt me so much.

I have supported you through the toughest time in your life over the past three years, and now you are gone. In those moments, I tell myself that this is a love that goes deeper than the words, the wounds, the broken things. It is a love that is basic, simple and true. And so I creep into your room when you are asleep and watch your perfect face, peaceful at last, and I stroke your hair very gently so as not to wake you and find the strength and resolve to do it all again tomorrow.

Because I am not giving up on you.There is so much to contribute to this but I will try to sum it up. Background: Small family. I have my mother, 2 brothers, 1 aunt, 1 cousin and now 2 children of my own.

So, to say the very least this is a horrible situation. I really feel like my mother has hated me and resented her role of being a mother my entire life. My mom divorced my dad when I was 8 and left us. We saw her once in 3 years and finally moved in with her when my dad had a mid-life crisis and turned to drugs.

A letter to … my teenage girl, who hates me so very much

My mother has never been maternal and I feel like she missed an important growing point in my life and always been hurt by her leaving us with my dad. She has always favored my brothers and is more like a boy than a girl in many senses. She has never been one to give me a hug or tell me she loves me. Not even in my darkest or happiest days. She never asks me how my day is or if she goes to the store she will ask my brothers what they want but never me.

My friends mothers would always see what I was talking about and be baffled by it. But, she is the only one I have relationship problems with. I would never treat me kids the way she has. If my kids doubted I loved them and told me that I would do anything and everything to get to the bottom of it. Talk it out, show them, and try to understand their point of view.

my mother hates me poem

She never tries to fix anything and 5 minutes later she will bring something trivial up like nothing ever happened. What I can do is respond to you. There is still an abandoned little girl inside of you who desperately wants her mommy. She left you. So the kids hold on to the hope and keep going back and going back and going back to their mother, hoping that this time it will be different.

But since the person they are returning to is incapable of connecting emotionally, the kids always end up hurt and disappointed. Nothing you do is going to make a difference. Your mother is who she is and is unwilling to either acknowledge that she has a problem or make changes.

There is a solution to your pain, though. Expand your notion of family so you can bring more people into the embrace of your own family. Get involved with the ladies in your church. Friendships can span the generations. I hope you will keep working on getting financially stable so that you can get a place of your own. Living with her is a daily, even hourly, reminder of all that you missed. Marie Hartwell-Walker Dr. Marie is licensed as both a psychologist and marriage and family counselor.

She specializes in couples and family therapy and parent education.Wow, I never knew there was a support site for this. I am hated by my mother. She admitted it and evicted me from her life. I never did drugs, I never stepped out of line, because even as a child, I knew her affection for me was conditional or non existent. She hated me from the day I was born and should have given me up.

This no longer rules my life, but somewhere its always in the back of my mind. No matter how perfect I tried to be, she rejected me.

my mother hates me poem

Now, even as an adult, I am successful, I worked really hard to obtain the "ideal" life she said I'd never have and it turned on me. I really guess I believed that if I could prove that I was loveable by marrying the perfect husband of 14 years and going strong; that if I was smart enough, i worked my way through college and work as an RN, bought a pretty house, cars, the list goes on and on, that I would win my mothers love.

Nope, never happened. Its awful and it leaves a mark on a person. Its a source of deep pain. She denied me a family. When I was 17 she remarried another man and I was a little too pretty, so she kicked me out. I had to figure life out. I made good choices and I have only one regret. I feel your pain motherlessmoma. I found out that by my sister that my mother tried to abort me at 7 months because she did not want her mother to know that she was fooling around with her boyfriend behind her back and ended up being pregnant by me.

my mother hates me poem

Well, her mother found out and of course she disowned my mother and me which I had nothing to do with. My mother beat me with objects I do not think a prisoner would get hit with. She scolded me with boiling water, caused me to have 3rd degree burns on the back of my legs. She humiliated me in public and in front of my other siblings by calling me useless, dumb, stupid.

She even went as far as to curse my friends out who came to see me. I have a very caring and giving nature and tried to please my mother in any and everyway I knew how.

Explaining my depression to my mother // Sabrina Benaim // Audio // Spoken Poetry

When my oldest brother molested me at 8 years old, I tried to tell her but she would not listen so I burned his bed. When I told the fireman what my brother did, I was looking for a hug or something from my mother, she looked at me with distain and turned her head.

When I was a teen, a friend of mine mother saw the scars on my legs so I told her how I was treated at home, the mother confronted my mother. Of course my mother always played the victim when confronted on how she treats me.

When my friend mother left, I got a beating I will never forget, I got stomped, pushed, slapped punched, you name it. She told me to my face "I can't Stand you! I never understood why. Now that I am older, it is still that same. I am married, owned two homes, the only person out of 8 siblings with a college degree which she and none of my siblings attened the ceremony.Next Poem.

As the eldest in the family I was always the one who got blamed for the mistakes of my sister. My sister and I don't share a bond.

As far as I can remember, we were still young when I put Read complete story. When I was sad and depressed, I needed you to be cheer me up. Instead, I drank till I was numb enough not to feel anything. When everyone was attacking me and putting me down, making me feel so low, I needed you to be the one to defend me and be on my side.

Instead, I endured all the cruel words and criticism the world threw at me. When I lost all my friends and had no one, I needed you to be that only friend I had left.

Instead, I experienced what the word "friendless" really meant. When I was scared and frightened, I needed you to be my security blanket. Instead, I had to live in fear. When I was angry and full of rage, I needed you to calm me down. Instead, I kept it all bottled up inside. When I felt so lonely and needed someone to care, I needed you to hold me tight and never let me go.

Instead, I grew up alone with no one to turn to. When I was hurt and in pain, I needed you to come running with you healing ways. Instead, I remained scarred and bruised. When I would inflict self-torture, wanting to die, I needed you to stop me and tell me how important I was. Instead, I hid my scars and became oblivious to everyone.

Mother Poems

When I would cry myself to sleep at night, I needed you to wipe the tears away. Instead, I held my pillow tight while never-ending tears streamed down my face. When my world was crashing down on me, I needed you to be the one I ran to. Instead, I locked myself in my room in complete despair. When I felt unloved, I needed you to tell me how much you loved me. Instead, I learned the words "I love you" are meaningless.

Tell Me By Angie. Blind By Jack Mcifco. Dear Mom By Krystal A. By Taryn. This poem made me cry, considering I go through a similar thing with my own mom who showed nothing but regret of having me.Why she hates me the way she does, I dont know.

All I've ever tried to do was be this 'perfect daughter' but all I could, and wanted to be was me. I can see the hate in her eye's everytime she looks at me, and I can hear it in her voice. The words she says to me pierce my soul, and stabs at my heart. All I ever wanted, all I ever need from her was to feel and be loved.

A mothers loves is precious, something a person can embrace everytime they feel melancholy or unwanted. A mothers hate is cruel, and when u know and feel deep down in your heart that your mother hates u, you sometimes feel not even god loves you, You feel unloved, and unwanted by people who should love you, but really don't So you're blinded when you find someone who truly loves you I now know that someone does love me, and his name is GOD, he's loved me all along and I let the hate from my mother blind me of that.

He's loved me even when I thought I hated him. Over the years I've learned that something deep in my mothers heart has caused her to feel the way about me she does now, So I stopped acting out all for her attention, I stopped hurting and cutting myself only to feel her warm embrace and see if she holds any kindness in her heart for me, But most importantly I stopped trying to MAKE her love me, I've learned that's something she should want to do, but she doesnt so.

I'm not going to make any one love me who doesnt want to, and I'm not going to search for something that doesnt want to be found anymore my mothers love You cannot change the other person; you can change the way you respond to the other person-it is not your fault! You write well Thank you. Report Reply. Share this poem:. Autoplay next video.

Nahjee' Wes. Read this poem in other languages. This poem has not been translated into any other language yet. What do you think this poem is about?

For Example: love, art, fashion, friendship and etc. Nahjee' Wes's Other Poems. Famous Poems. Phenomenal Woman Maya Angelou.My 15 y.

This has been going on since mid December of ' He tells me he hates me and that as far as he is concerned, he hopes that he never sees me again. He hates me with every bone in his body. I am trying to Help me please. My little 3 month boy seems to really dislike me. Went mom go's to work and I'm left with him he just won't stop crying.

I try everything. He's fed, changed, clean, I try to play with him. But it just makes it worse. Its just so fustrating I don't know what to do. Any advice Has anyone read this book? If so, what was your opinion of it? Did he have the right to lie and elaborate things and still classify it as a memoir? Filed protective order with the court that has now become order of the court. My son hates me. Wants to be with his Dad.

He can't see my son unsupervised. How do I keep them away from my son? Can I get a TRO? Below is more of the story Dad has embroiled him so deep in the middle of Here's the story I've been with him for a yr and half I do everything I can to be the best girlfriend that I can be I cook, clean, provide what ever he needs, and always there when he's upset Remember Me?

Find questions to answer Find today's questions Find unanswered questions. Search Topics. Login Not a member? Join our community. Feb 12,AM. My heart is in a million pieces, my adult son hates me. My heart is shattered. My 30 year old son said he never wants to see or talk to me again.


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