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All I wanted was for you to be the best you could and have the best you dreamed of.

Updated: Jan 17



As I pour my heart into this article, I am compelled to dispel any misconceptions that may have taken root. I want you to understand that the narrative painted around your mother is not one of depression or any other label that implies weakness. No, it's far from that truth.

We are all divine creations, electromagnetic light beings inhabiting earthly existence within human suits. Embracing what may seem unconventional, I find solace in the company of coaches and speakers, including a quantum training professor, who defy mainstream controlled thinking. In this realm of unconventional wisdom, where the boundaries of possibility are pushed, the label of "crazy" becomes a badge of honor, a testament to our willingness to explore the vast expanses beyond the confines of societal norms.


A woman who endures abuse is not defined by terms like bipolar or depressed, or any other word that society might hastily attach. What she truly becomes is silenced – not by choice, but by the overwhelming force of those who seek to maintain control through fear and manipulation. The abusers revel in this silence, for it shields them from the exposure of their true nature. They thrive on the victim's silence, relishing the power it affords them.


When you reflect upon the distorted mirror image that has been presented, remember this: I, your mother, was the one who endured the abuse, who was systematically silenced and unjustly blamed. The abusers, in their twisted logic, found it convenient to transfer responsibility for their wrongdoings onto the very person they were victimizing.


It's crucial to recognize that their choices to abuse were their own, independent of any influence or provocation from me. I did not shape their actions or thinking; that responsibility lies solely with them. By wrongly attributing their abusive behavior to me, they sought to escape accountability.


Do not let their warped perceptions define who your mother is. I am not the image they painted, and I refuse to carry the burden of blame for actions that were never mine. It's time to reclaim the narrative, to peel away the layers of falsehoods, and to see the truth for what it is – a woman who, despite the storms, remains resilient, strong, and fiercely protective of the love that binds us.


As we navigate through the complexities of our shared history, I implore you to see beyond the shadows cast by others. The power to break free from the chains of deception lies within their falsehoods. Let us embrace the truth, untangle the webs of falsehoods, and emerge stronger, united in the love that no darkness can diminish.


As I pen down these words, a flood of emotions wells up within me, and I am compelled to share with you the depths of my heart. Awakened, no, I have always known the real truths of the abuse I endured and the toxic influences that sought to cast shadows over our lives. It pains me that my knowledge was met with the harsh judgment of abusive individuals who, with their falsehoods, verbally attacked me, attempting to distort the essence of who I am.


Through it all, I held onto a silent strength, a resilience forged by a mother's love, desperate to shield both of you from the storms that raged around us. It is disheartening that despite my efforts, you chose to believe those who sought to tarnish my character, to paint a distorted picture that veiled the truth.


You, my precious daughters, unwittingly became the next link in the chain of rejection, shame, blame, and a heartbreaking pattern of relocation. Denying the truths, you carried the weight of judgments that were never yours to bear. What they said, fueled by their own insecurities and self-loathing, became a lens through which you saw me, your mother. And in that distorted mirror, I was painted as the one at fault.


I often find myself saying, perhaps in jest, that all women in abusive relationships are the ones to be blamed. Yet, it's bewildering that only your mother, in your eyes, bears the weight of this blame. Why? Because the early programming, from the last trimester of pregnancy to the tender age of seven, etched beliefs into your subconscious, framing me as the culprit. I want you to know, my beautiful daughters, I do not cling to this accusation; instead, I choose to remember. Not to harbor resentment, but to understand the intricate structures of toxic people.


One thing that used to deeply unsettle me was hearing how Kristy told me how she would refer to me when she asked about me to both of you—a derogatory label that reflected a distorted narrative. My coach and mentor wisely pointed out the abnormality of such language, recognizing its ugliness and suggesting it was a defensive reaction to what she perceived as a threat to her fabricated version of truth. Equally disheartening was the realization that you, too, aligned with her sister's judgment, branding your mother as "weird." Strangely, I'd wear that label proudly, for in uniqueness lies strength, far superior to the conformity of those who judge without understanding. My life is a one on one call for the creator of all, it i was never a conference call for any of you to understand. Yes a way higher power than any of the abusers gaslighting judgements.


These abusers, including my ex-husband, orchestrated a symphony of pain that deliberately tore our family apart, employing manipulative tactics to play their abusive games. In the cruel irony of their actions, they then laid blame on the very mother who had endured their abuse, knowing she was already silenced and numbed by the profound pain of their actions, including instances of abuse and rape. It's a twisted narrative they constructed, placing the weight of their wrongdoing on the shoulders of the victim, perpetuating a cycle of injustice that only serves to deepen the wounds inflicted on a soul already scarred by their relentless cruelty.


I will continue to unveil the truths that deserve the light they've been denied. Regardless of the relentless manipulations and mind games orchestrated by those who sought to tear us apart, one irrefutable reality remains unscathed—they can never strip away the profound, unwavering love I hold for you, my girls. This love, profound and immeasurable, persists whether I am with you or separated by the cruel designs of those who sought to manipulate our connections. Despite the fabricated blame for the abuse I endured, my love for you both endures, resilient and unyielding. If I could be with you, I would, but my love transcends the boundaries set by their calculated schemes.


One last thing to remember for the next article, is, no women ever goes and dates a man knowing they are an abuser. if a man came up to you at a party or where ever and said he was an abuser and then asked you to date him, would you? I do know the answer and it is the same answer as mine. NOPE NEVER.



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