So so many relatable stories, many bringing back memories I’d forgotten or repressed.
Everything being about her, even when DF was diagnosed with terminal cancer, it was about her. When he died dismissing his wishes to have some of his ashes put in with his mum, because well even in death she couldn’t have him around another woman that wasn’t her.
Putting other women down, o my god she thrived on this, you should see the self absorbed completely air brushed portraits of herself she had done of herself and plastered around the place. No pictures with DF, no pictures of her kids or grandchildren unless others were coming over. There were always digs about other women, especially women in my DFs life, me, his sisters, his nieces. I remember once I was 14 and trying a dress on I’d fallen in love with on the market, i came out of the changing cubicle and she started shouting at me asking if I was pregnant because I was due on and my belly was bloated. I was mortified, I’d never even kissed a boy properly. I’d been “fat” since I was 9yo and she let me stay with her parents for 2 weeks. She loved telling me how I’d doubled in size, this story has been told my entire life, even I’ve told it, I think I even wrote about it on here recently. It’s only now writing this I realise it probably wasn’t that bad, I was probably just going through puberty, I was in bras by 9yo as I’m big breasted, just like her, but unlike her I NEVER had a flat tummy! She used to phone me up and tell me how pretty my niece was, my niece looked like me, but apparently my niece was skinny. She couldn’t say I was ugly because everyone said I looked like her, unfortunately I know I do but I try my best, especially getting older to make sure I don’t look too much like her by wearing different style glasses, I made the mistake of cutting my long hair and I swear when I looked in the mirror she was looking back, so I’ve grown it out again and I try to dress a way she never would, I love nothing more than putting scruffy tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie on, no makeup and hair in a stuffy bun for the school run or supermarket shop because I know it would mortify her.
Dismissing or denying things she’d said something. I could spend hours writing examples, things were always in my head or I’d imagined them or taken something out of context. The queen of double edged meanings is my nick name (well one) for her.
I actually have nothing to do with my family because of her. I learnt a long time ago they are far happier when I’m not around because it makes their life easier they are not dealing with me around and the aggravation it causes when I don’t tow the party line, which is she can say and do what ever the fuck she wants, because, well that’s just the way she is. It’s really easy to ignore her when your not the target of all things nasty and cruel. I resigned myself, however sad that my good relationship with my DF was all me and wishful thinking, he was her biggest enabler, it was only when presented with his own mortality he realised he had enabled her too much, but then it was about him and his life not that he’d let her abuse me all my life. I can even reconcile to some extent that given his idea of abuse wasn’t phycological, he’d been beaten a lot as a child so to him if it wasn’t physical it wasnt abuse. Something I believe and defended for years too.
The saddest part is I really miss my extended family but still avoid family events in case her or my siblings, mainly one brother, her favourite, who have spent their whole lives slagging off our extended family are there. I know they get off on knowing I’m staying away because of them, they see it as a victory they are there and not me. The one thing I am grateful for is now my DF has gone there is less pressure from them when I do see them for me to put up with her. I was really scared after the last time I cut her off that my Aunts, my DFs sisters would be angry with me for going nc with her after DF died. One of my cousins told me her mum missed me and was upset I’d not been in touch so I bit the bullet and called her, she was nothing but supportive, she never said anything about my mother outright but it was clear she wanted me to do what was best for me and my family. Same with my other aunt who I know was closer to my mother. I now keep in touch mainly by phone more, but I still avoid going to see them because they live too close to my mother and brother and I don’t want any confrontation if I bump into them.
God I could write for hours, but just doing this has drained me.
So sad to hear so many horrible stories, but happy that so many are no longer putting up with their narcissistic mothers!