My mother was a sex offender.
My mother was a monster.
All the hateful things I have believed about myself all my life were taught to me by abuse and abusers.
It is okay to ignore everything they ever taught me.
She didn’t like when someone else loved me. She was jealous of anyone who got anything, even a tiny girl who was loved by her daddy.
She used terror and threats to control others, especially little defenseless children.
She used little children’s bodies like blow up dolls and sex toys.
She saw me through her own cracked lenses of being a mother daughter sexual abuse survivor and a sexual offender of her own daughter.
Just because she loved her mother abuser doesn’t mean that I have to. She also hated her mother. I get to decide how I feel about them.
She projected all her self-hatred and self-loathing onto me and others.
I don’t have to accept her self-hatred, like she accepted hers from her sex offender monster mother.
She never loved me, but she had a very small and damaged heart.
She didn’t love me. She said I was unlovable. She lied. I am loveable.
She never truly saw me.
It is okay to be happy she is dead.
It is not only okay not to love her, it is understandable.
I am nothing like her. I’m so very proud of that.
I get to decide how I am going to live the rest of my life. She can’t stop me from being happy.