I can relate to almost everything you endured. I was rejected from birth. My mother didn’t want a girl. She was relentless with her abuse and hate for me. I honestly believe my mother would have thrown me off of a bridge if she thought she could get away with it. I had two family members that were aware of the truth about my mother who did what they could to try and help me cope. They could only help so much because no one could say anything to my dad about her abuse because he would never hear it. He would have forbidden me to see his family if they dared to try and make him see what his wife was doing. My dad was blind to her evil and my brother acted like it wasn’t happening. The whole family plays a part when you are the scapegoat. It only works if the entire family plays their part. I always wanted a mother that loved me but I had an evil viper that was my enemy until she passed. Her evil became so toxic that she turned even my dad against me and both sides of my family. She managed to get my dad to agree to take me out of their will and put my daughter in my place. My daughter basically stole over a half of a million dollars from me because my parents put her in their will in my place. My daughter knows the truth but she has become just like my mother to justify her taking what she knows was mine. So I have no family now but I have a daughter that works to destroy me just like my mother did when she was alive. It is hard to not feel suicidal. I had to walk away from the little bit of family I had in order to try and survive. How do you find yourself again or believe in yourself again when you have no one because you have isolated yourself due to your childhood. I do nothing but make mistakes it seems and I cannot trust my own judgement because of this so I have isolated myself. Now I understand being isolated is very bad for me but I don’t know if I can break out of it. No one wants to hear about my problems and it is too much to expect anyone to. I think I have to do it alone but, I don’t think I can. Sorry this is so self centered. I am so sorry for what you had to endure as a child. I admire your strength to overcome the hellish childhood you suffered. You are very pretty. Horses make the best friends and horses saved me as a child. I grew up with a family that has horses and I learned to ride when I was 5. I love animals more than I do people. I only feel safe when I have animals as my friends. Animals never betray you and they love you without conditions. Thank you for sharing – I know how painful it can be. I am very happy for you finding peace. Take care

This is my second ‘thank you’ for such a heartbreaking, relatable piece. I just came from a support group where I mentioned my mother hating me. I think the gravity of this anomaly may be inconceivable for most people. That isn’t new for me and actually understandable. (mothers do not usually hate their children; hate is such a strong word..) I decide I should do research; as if to affirm tangible evidence with more facts. I type ‘When mothers hate their daughters’ into the browser and hit enter. Your article comes up. As I read, I recognize my mother (wait, what?) the level up, spike in abuse, as puberty hit (wow); that led to a Netflix series climax of criminal acts (wow)… Why I never connected these particular dots before stun me… Yet a bigger surprise awaits. Before I start my ‘thank you’ to you, the author, I scroll a bit; relating to the many comments before me. I’ve grown very fond of community solidarity here at the foundation. It is hard to hear the hurt of anyone but at least we are here. For me, it is the hope-because we are NOT alone… And then I saw it…. Me… I have already been here before….. I read my comment… It is me… (one of the me’s’, anyway-this one does not ‘remember’ so it isn’t this ‘me’ -therefore , it is as if I have arrived here for the very first time)… It speaks to abuse the endured by a person called ‘mother’; who did far more harm than good. If not for this space, your relatable survivor story, and my comment, I really might not be able to ever acknowledge the truth of my original wounding . I am here , I exist. A child like me has survived.

Dear Kim and fellow survivors, I concur with Ceilo’s statement to Kim’s. I, too, have dealt with these feelings in the past. I refer to it as the measuring stick of trauma experience, or pain, or healing for that matter. I have been on the better side of this path to learn that this measuring stick isn’t real. That does not mean the feeling is not. It speaks to the original wounding; at least so far as I have come to understand myself. Over time, I began to hold my own story back. It was ‘too much’. An overshadowing of the terrible pain and experience that any child has experienced when love and nurture is in grave deficit. When abuse and worse has become the replacement of childhood experience. There is no measure, Kim. Any type of abuse to a child has long lasting consequence without love and nurture to heal the wounds made. No wound is small or insignificant.

Thank you for sharing. You have empowered me and made me feel better knowing many other females also faced similar challenges growing up. What’s beautiful about this, is that talking about it gives way to healing and gaining inner peace.

My mother’s egg donor was just like the egg donors that the other readers were subjected to. My mother was born in the 1930’s, birth control and abortion were illegal then, and ” Grandma” had an affair with another married person, who owned a nightclub. This guy dumped Grandma when she found herself pregnant by him, and he wouldn’t help with getting her an abortion,or find a home to send my mother to. These women decide to hate their unborn babies at conception, and I’m convinced that birth control and abortion should be free and available everywhere. Vasectomies too. They take their own rage at childhood abuse on any child born to them. I don’t consider life a gift, but once you’re here, you’re here. Having a better life as an adult is the best revenge, though some take abusive parents to court. I’m all for justice. My mother wasn’t as bad as Grandma was, but still resentful and violent in her own way. Again, an unwanted pregnancy before Roe v Wade, so I didn’t have a good relationship with her. She was what’s known as a covert narcissist and enmeshed with me, not wanting to have her own life. Bipolar as well. Absentee, narcissistic sperm donor,so no father figure around. I absolutely believe in no contact with these types of parents. People don’t know that they have the right to cut off such people. Bad parents are more common than most people know!

I’m sorry that you’re dealing with this lousy mother. Such women aren’t really mothers. They’re egg donors only. Do you HAVE to keep living with her ?? Can you rent somewhere,or sell the house, take Dad with you or just you and he can live together. Let evil” mom” go live in a nursing home where she belongs,all alone. You and your father deserve better!!

This very much touched me. I had a lot similar story. I was born into a incest family and a mother that did not want me from the beginning. It took years to write my story but I chose to write my blog finally about my challenges. Just a warning it is graphic and make trigger someone but it can help some one that needs it! Everyone is worthy of love! butterflylover92.wordpress.com

My mother gave birth to me out of wedlock. She has just been newly employed. Out of this frustration, she got married a year later to a very abusive man. She gave birth to a baby boy.

This relationship didn’t last, she walked out and got married after a year and a half. My terrible, hateful life now started from this point. My new stepfather for some reason didn’t like me and my brother, his extended family too.

In 1984 when I was just about to celebrate my 4th birthday, mom gave birth to my sister to our new step dad. Shortly after, my step dad bought a farmland so many miles away and we moved out.

My night mares started there, my mom could call me names and beat me up if I made a mistake. I feared here of which I still do at 44years today.

As I grew up she and my step dad ganged against me. They could call me names and sometimes beat me up even as a teenager.

As times went by, I longed for motherly love, I longed for that mother that I could share with my experiences. All along my mother was a tigress, I could not dare, or even imagine approaching her.

In highschool, I was clean shaven just like boys. My siblings ( step sisters and brothers) were treated indifferently from the two of us.

This abuse has grown with me at 44my opinion is never taken, but that of my step siblings if highly honoured.

I can’t lie, but I hate my mother.