What I see from reading these posts is that a lot of people had difficult and / or abusive mums but somehow, somewhere knew they could do things for themselves as a child or teen. The instinct of self care even if it wasn’t total self love shone through.
Profoundly, congratulations for having had the inner strength inside yourselves for knowing you were and are worth something. I didn’t know I was allowed to do half of these things and a lot is because of how my brother also controlled me. So that was 3 controlling people: him, my father and my mother. I was therefore so unsure of myself and doing anything different was dangerous or different as my brother would beat me up and abuse me. When home alone, I couldn’t even sit down and watch tv by myself or with my friends as he and his mates would come and wiggle their dicks near our faces.
A lot of these posts resonate. The razor one. I was given my father’s old butterfly razor (which uses a razor blade) after being called chicken legs at school and a blood bath ensued. The bra one. I was bought one and only one and ridiculed with lots of narrative about her having one made for her as a child. Still bangs on about that now. I struggle to understand the message there beyond her needs being met but mine should be laughed at - laughing at herself maybe? The sanitary towel one. I was given a sanitary belt in a hushed voice, my friend, god love her took me to Superdrug for stick on towels. The university one. Another friend persuaded me to go through clearing rather than attend the secretarial college course I had lined up.
I truly thought I was worthless for all my childhood and didn’t understand what unconditional love was until I was well into adulthood. At age 30, I was still deferring to what my mother and part of the time, I was genuinely scared to use the phone to talk to utility companies etc. Other times I could be fine. It’s difficult to explain beyond saying some of the time I could be rational and adult and other times I was petrified of doing something wrong or different due to a lifetime of abuse.
My father was a workaholic and the house / children were very much the mother’s domaine. He was also pretty narcissistic and lived vicariously through my brother. So bought him lots of shiny big boys toys and nothing for me. Including a pony that I knew better than to show a close attachment to as my brother would have been violent and abusive. I was so sad when they sold the pony that I secretly and desperately wanted for me. 😭 My brother is also the golden child. So I got the hit from both parents despite my mother’s insistence we were treated the same.
When my dad died in my teens, I was never comforted and she actually went out of her way to denigrate me in his eyes by telling me she never told me I had sex (she snooped and found out shortly before he died) as it would have destroyed him and made a big thing about how hurt he was that I turned away from him when we spotted one another in town when I was with my mates (being a parent to a teen now, I know this to be totally normal). She was in pain and I imagine telling me these things made her feel better and good. I now realise that she doesn’t see me as separate and she was berating me as she considers me the ‘bad’ part of her.
I cannot speak to her about my life as anything I say will instantly be turned onto her. So I leave her to drone on, exhausting me. And to add insult to injury, get told I am secretive, was even as a child. Um, no, I had zero guidance, never asked if I was ok, never told I was loved and had a brother, who prevented me from doing anything. No wonder I didn’t know I had basic rights. She’s exactly the person described on the video, knows I’ve had a lot of therapy and thinks I’m weak. I tried a couple of times to break the surface with her in my 20s and that was a big mistake, which was used against me for years.
Now I’ve had some serious therapy, she can no longer do this to me. Apart from the droning on. She’s tons and tons better and if I were well, I’d put up better boundaries.
I still need to fix the my brother thing. Due to my ailing health, I don’t go out much but we were at the shops at the weekend. There was an imposing man, who looked rather like my brother bawling at his child laying down on the elevator as it went down and the dad at the top of the stairs. The visceral reaction was frightening and I still am profoundly affected a few days on. Part of me wanted to to murder him, that’s the part covering up my desperate fear. I’ve had one therapy session via zoom about something else… well it’s all about boundaries really… and this is the one to tackle next. When I’m physically up to it.