Somebody help me. All I do is cry.

I thought it would be better by now, but my thirty-year old daughter still hates me---never calls, never visits and blows up if I say anything about MY feelings. We live in different cities which only aggravates the problems.

She got married a month ago to a very nice guy. The wedding was over-the-top luxurious paid for my my extremely wealthy ex husband and his wife. Just got back the wedding pictures which threw me into a terrible depression. I had talked myself into believing the wedding was great, but the pictures showed me otherwise. Everything was about the stepmother. She's in most of the pictures. As I found out, she was 100% involved in the wedding planning, while I was left out. It feels now like I am totally dispensable, that I should be thrown away, that I don't matter,that I was a terrible mother.

My other child is son. He totally loves me--so I couldn't have been that bad.

Somebody please help me. I am severely depressed

Hi 'MOMS'!! I have to share something personal with each of you who wrote about your daughters hating you.

I'm a grown up daughter , and one who has probably walked 10 thousand miles in your daughter's shoes! I cannot speak or write on their behalf, but I can from my own personal journey and experience with my own mother, who is deceased and resting in peace.

I was a beautiful baby with big brown eyes, who grew into a shy little girl. I had 3 sisters and 1 baby brother. We were happy little children and got along fine for the most part, until we got older and hit puberty. In our toddler years, we played in the park, chased each other down the corridors of the dwelling we lived in, practiced cooking w/one another in the kitchen while our parents were sleeping, and even bathed together. Yes...all 5 of us in a seemingly huge bathtub. My mom and dad used to call us their 5 little Indians. My mom was of Austrian Heritage, and father a native of a 'Spanish' country. I used to wish I could have all my mom's freckles!!! Worse...her fair skin-tone just so that I could experience what a 'sunburn' felt like! So many things about her I wished I could have been, but never would be...so, I thought, until I got older.

My story of my relationship with my mother and the adverse feelings I had towards her, stems from an early age of 5, which was the first time I ever felt afraid of her. I saw her get really mad at one of my sisters. I don't recall why she got mad, but I do recall what took place. As punishment, my mother sat my older sister in a chair and got the scissors to cut her hair. Just as she put the scissors to my sister's hair, I remember putting my tiny hand on her wrist and saying "mama ... why are you going to cut her hair? Please don't cut her hair mommy". My mother stopped and decided to not cut her hair. Sometime later, my mother started to abuse me. I became silent and regressed. The beatings were few and far in between, but one's that I would remember for the rest of my life. I withdrew from her affection because I was confused as to whether or not they were sincere. By the time I was 9 years old, my mother sent me away for opening and then spilling her bottle of perfume. She sent me to live with my aunts in PA for a brief time. All the while I was there with my aunts, I cried to be with my mother and my siblings. At that age, I could not comprehend why my mother sent me away. And not once, did I ever consider the possibility or fact that my mother did not love me, at least not until a few years ago, when my childhood babysitter found me online.

By time I was 11 years old, our parents moved to the north side of the city and put us in public schools. As if things weren't bad enough at home, I was beaten up by a team of bullies at least 2 or 3 times a week. I couldn't tell my mom because I was afraid of what she would do or say. So, I started to skip school and hide in basements of local apartment buildings until it was time to go home. This lasted for 30 days. The truancy officer came to our house on a day that my mother kept me home while I had been sick, and told my mother that I had not been in school for nearly 30 days. What was to come was horrifying. After the officer left, my mother nearly drowned me a bathtub of water. I was only 11 and horrified! This would be one of the last beatings I would take from her behind my father's back. Yes, my father never knew about them until I was older and when I left home.

When I was 12, my parents sent me to my father's native country to live with his sister for several months. It was probably the best decision they could have ever made for me. There, I was reformed, and exposed to another cultural setting that has been notorious for being a paradise on earth. I missed my family terribly, but never really thought of this as a form of punishment. When my mom took me to the airport she cried and told me how much she loved me. I believed her! Why wouldn't I? Regardless of the beatings, she was still my mother, and still capable of showing her affections towards me. Anyway, while overseas, I bonded with the most loving cousins, aunts and uncles on the face of this earth, who now call me their 'adopted sister'. I learned a second language; how to appreciate nature and all things gardening; how to horseback ride; and above ALL THINGS ... how to PRAY and have a friendship with Christ! AMEN to that!

While away, I never heard from my mother or siblings, not by phone nor letter. However, I did hear from my father on 4 occasions by telephone. Upon my return, I was surprised to not see anyone at the airport except for my father, who shared that he and my mother had separated. He explained that it was because the city was too dangerous and my mother wanted to keep us safer, so she moved to a rural area, but would be coming for me in a few days. When I saw my mother, I was sooooo happy to see her ... but so shocked to barely even get a hug from her. I'm not sure if this is when I discovered her disdain for me, but things were pretty clear that something just was not right.

During the next 4 years, and all throughout high school my mother complained that I was being 'distant' from her; or too emotional; or withdrawn from the family; or even ugly at times. She often told her friends, in front of my face, how much of a bitch I was being and how cruel I was being towards her. I think she had forgotten all about the things that had transpired in the earlier years. Even more, how she never called or wrote to me while I was overseas.

When I heard my mother's conversations with her friends and family describing how horrible of a person I was, I think this was the moment when I realized just how much I truly hated my mother. I hated her with every bone in my body, but just as equally so, if not more, my desire to love her was 20x's more powerful than the contempt I felt towards her and the for the things she did to me. During that period, although I thought she was supposed to be 'invincible', I felt as though she wanted everybody to feel sorry for her. I became selfish with my own affections, and oftentimes ignored her for days, perhaps weeks.

Yes, this is true, a child can really hate their parents, but I don't believe this can be true without reason. My mother favored my other siblings, and my grandmother favored my brother. My father lived in another city, so I felt as though I had no one to favor me.

By time I was 17, my mother told me I was a very sick person, and that I needed help. One time, she broke down in tears, and grabbed a knife and told me to stab her because that's how much she thought I had hated her. In that very instant, I became the adult and I gently grabbed the knife and told my mother to get some help. She cried harder and asked why I hated her so much. I held back my tears and I was speechless. I didn't know what to say, and I know some of you (if you've made it this far) are probably crying by this time, but the truth was, I didn't really hate my mother ... I hated the things she said, and simply just did not understand her. I never wanted anything bad to happen to my mother...above all things I wanted to LOVE MY MOTHER even more than I did. And, one day … I knew, deep in my heart … this would be true!

One of you wrote that you felt like dying or killing yourself. You cannot imagine how painful that is to hear. I heard my mother say this for many years, and it was very sad to hear this, but even so … I stood strong and told her to GROW UP! And…I’m telling you that right now…to grow up and to grip of yourself!!! This is NOT THE END of the world…okay!!! This is a phase and yes … you and your daughter may need some help … but your daughter needs you more than anything in the world and it would be a crying shame for her to lose her mommy while she was in that ‘self-discovery’ phase of life.

Relationships are complex. Our behaviors and emotions and agendas are not always clear, especially in mother daughter relationships. I remember my mother giving me sound advice, but at the time, I thought she was absolutely insane! Nothing she advised to me at that age made any sense. I wanted to do everything my way. I didn't really care about my mother's ideas ... I was pretty selfish and stubborn at best.

By time I was 18, I would be the first of my siblings to leave. I don't really know what this/that did to my mother, but one thing I knew for sure, was that I needed help. I need clarity! I needed to understand if how I felt had reason. Above all ... I needed validity! I needed to know if my mom really loved me. I wanted someone to explain to me why my mother would tell me that she loved me, but on the other hand would beat me. I needed someone to validate the logic (if any) behind that ...because I could not!

Instead of going to college, I went into therapy for 8 years. It was all talk therapy. No drugs ... no medications ... no coercions ... no involuntary confinements or straightjackets or anything like that. Just pure good-ol fashioned talk therapy with the best psychologist in the whole wide world who really cared about me, and who helped me to get back my sense of self and self-esteem.

In the duration of therapy and as I grew into womanhood, I started to see things differently with my mother. She was an only child, and bore 5 children of her own that made her feel like she had a pot of gold. She did love every single one of her babies, but something had gone wrong in her marriage. She lost her sense of self worth and self esteem. Instead of taking care of herself... she took care of everybody else. She worked 2 or 3 jobs, and I think this was very hard on us because it forced us to grow up much faster than any other average child. As for the beatings, there is nothing on earth that could ever justify a parent beating their child. But in my case, I realize now, my mother was sick. She did everything in her power that she could to raise us on her own. But looking back, I realize now she simply forgot to take care of herself. Deep in her heart she was miserable with a lot of things about her own self and not just the stress of raising 5 children.

By the time I was in my late twenties, I came to terms with my relationship with my mother. It was during a visit I had and we were sitting at her table conversing about the photo albums she had out. There, a picture of me came loose from the album. I was just 5 in that photo. I held it in my hand and looked at my big browns that my mother always said she had adored. I thought about all of our difficult times, and then felt a big lump come into my throat. I think I swallowed a BIG FAT TEAR DROP, when I handed her the photo and asked "mom ... did you ever love me?" and she looked away as she said "of course baby I have always you ... I love all of my babies. Why?” Oh...it just had to be the million dollar question ... Why? I pondered for a moment, calculating my thoughts, and then spoke about all of our differences and hurtful moments throughout the past. We must have sat there for 13 hours straight, talking, arguing over our perceptions of what happened in our relationship verses not and even cried at times. Many things she did not recall, but if anything was clear, it would have come when I said "you never acknowledged the way I felt ... you disregarded my feelings and you mocked me in front of everyone as though my feelings and thoughts were not important".

It wasn't too much longer after that visit when I received a tearful call from my mother in the middle of the night and heard her apologizing and asking me to forgive her. I was still numb, but told her that I did forgive her. The second call would be her asking me when I was going to stop blaming her and bringing up the past. And, you know what MOMS ... she was right! There comes a time in each of our lives where we must take ownership of our own happiness and stop living and blaming our past. When I realized this, I paid a visit to my mother for a weekend. Everything caught up with me; I finally realized that my 'mommy' would always be my mommy. I realized that when I turned 18 (if not sooner), that I had chosen to leave my mother. My mother never left me ... she was always there waiting for my return. This was the moment that I looked into her eyes and swallowed another big fat teardrop and opened my arms and said "mama ... I need you ... I need you so bad in my life".

My mother and I bonded for the next 3 years, as though we were the bestest of friends. I cherished every phone call ... every visit ... and every moment of laughter, tears and joy that I had left with her on this earth, up until the day she had passed away and I whispered in her ear ... I will always be with you mummy ... rest in peace.

I forgave my mother for all things said and done, but the hardest thing I could do was to forgive myself for holding on to all that pain which deprived me of having the relationship I could have had with my mother. I think, had it not been for my faith in Christ, I would have never known what surrender and forgiveness was all about. So, I really thank God for being bless with a sense of compassion and friendship with Christ.

To this day, I have no regrets of my relationship with my mother. She was my mother and she was my life. She, herself did not have a healthy sense of self-worth. I think part of my mom’s issues had a lot to do with never taking care of self before she became a mom. I know this may not be the case for everyone, but it was for my mom and many others that I know who are struggling with their daughters. And, when I read your stories of your daughters, I simply ask for each and every one of you mothers.... to know that you are not to blame for what your daughter is going through and that we all go through that period in search of our own identity and true selves. Love your daughters ... but don't blame yourselves … you were daughter too!

My daughter reacts to everything I say as being negative, so basically I can't make any suggestions without her taking it as a criticism. Everything turns into an argument, and who wants that? I don't!. She works near our home and stops by sometimes after work. I asked if she wanted to spend the night at home, and she never wants to do this. I decided to clean out her dresser and put her clothes in a bag if she's not going to ever be in her room anymore. I found a letter she wrote about her self and her self esteem, then another describing how she hated me. It is funny, I had issues with MY mother, but I am much different than my mom, so it does baffle me why this should be happening! I guess I'm just venting and it is good to know there is a forum for others whose daughters "hate" them, too!

Jody, I was right where you are at one point, feeling I was the bad mom and that if I caused someone so much pain that I should not be living. My daughter played yet another awful game with me to get me where I would hurt the most and she knew exactly what she was doing. When she did, I called for an emergency session with mental health because I was thinking of making it the end. It was the best thing I could have ever done. I was so thankful after that for what I had and realized that I had to surround myself with those who understood me, who beleived in me and the way I thought and I had to let all the other garbage go. I was ruining my own health. Like you, I had one at home too, she is now 13 and I realized it was not fair to her to have me is such bad emotional health, she needs me, she needs her mom. Hang in there Jody, it does get easier with time. For me, the more I step away and look at what I want for me in life, the better things get.

Annette

Annette,

Thank you so much for responding. I wish I was where you are now. I want to let go...I want this incredible pain to stop and I don't know how. I have searched the internet, tried hypnosis for positive affirmations, considered that all in general would be better off if I weren't around and none of these solutions have proven to be effective. Is it just time that takes the pain away. I still have a 12 year old at home that I am terrified I will ruin. She cried last night and told me that she didn't want me to become so beaten down that I thought I didn't matter and that no one could replace me. I cried as well, I had no idea that she was so perceptive and that she realized I am going under. I don't think I could actually commit suicide, but I have certainly wished for my death on so many occasions. I do fine for a bit and go down again. When does this misery subside?

Thanks again, so much.
Jodi

From Grieving.... also she is in Foster Care because after I reported my daughter's run away 18 times and the court would do nothing to get her into a locked facility where she could not hurt herself (she has history of cutting) or get raped, I had to turn her over to the state. This is a no win situation. Our children are suffering because we cant get help for them unless we relinquish our rights.....THEN the state will step in and try to take care of them because they dont want to be sued if something goes wrong.

This is so messed up.

Jodi.....these situations are tough as you know, and like you I too gave and gave and gave all of me thinking that if I could be the everything mom that it was all going to turn out in the end. Like you, I also was a single mom and my duaghter ran back and forth with tales of the other trying to get us each to side. I thought one day my daughter would be able to see her father's lies and behavior that lead to our divorce (and at 29 I think she does) but she loves her dad and I have had to accept that she sees what she wants, hears what she chooses. As difficult as these situations are and we no longer want the hurt in our lives we still want our chidlren close so it creates this uncomnfortable back and forth emotional tug-of-war so to say in our minds. like yourself I questioned everything I did and said and found myself baffled.

Little by little I have had to let go, everytime my daughter and I would have a break thru and get closer she come back with anotgher lash that topped the last one, to the point that I no longer trust her. Love her yes, but I know she has no interest in a relationship with me and until she does there is no sense in me knocking myself out to make things right with her.....her door is closed.

I watch my husband and see how he interacts with the kids (we have 5) and he has never been as involved, nor does he get into their business, he doesn't get upset if the kids do something we disapprove of (it is like he expects them to mess up) and emotionally he is much more distant then myself. So I have tried to take some lessons from him. I probably have not been as good about thinking about ME and everything I want for ME like my husband does but really that is the only way to get beyond this. Focus on you and what you want for yourself. If your daughter wants a relaship with with you, she will seek you out. I have not cut my daughter out of my life.....I do sent cards to let her know I am still interested but everything I do is safe (with boundaries), allowing her the option to reply but not expecting anything in return.

I wish you the best.
Annette