Nothing hurts worst than a mother's betrayal. It breeds mistrust in future relationships, and causes self-doubt. In relation, self-hatred and loathing of one's precious life is a direct result of bad parenting.

It wasn't until my mother died, that I realized how much dysfunction she graced my life with. Mother didn't abuse me with name-calling, or physical abuse. Nor did she outwardly treat me with contempt. Just the same, she scarred my heart forever.

Her violent, hellish, and neglectful environment told a story of woe. My mother's alcoholism attracted one abusive man after another. One of them sexually abused me as a child. He threatened to kill her; I never said a word.

On the surface, you would think that my relationship with my mother was one to be envied. She was nice to me until her selfishness reared its ugly head. The most horrible incident was when she got drunk at a local bar, and brought home a drunken soldier. He was fresh out of Vietnam, and still wearing his army uniform. My mother got drunk at his expense, and I paid the price. I assume she promised him her body, but instead she brought him home to use mine: her precious teenage daughter. I don't remember what happened after she placed my hand in his hand. She left the vestibule and my mind went blank after his first kiss. My mother betrayed my trust in her forever.

My two brothers and I were neglected, and suffered emotional abuse by witnessing domestic violence for years. As the only girl, I had to take on the role of caregiver, and the household duties that were my mother's responsibility. I spent most of my young life trying desperately to win my mother's attention from men and
alcohol. I lost.

I am grateful to God that I don't remember all of the horrible things that happened to me in my mother's house. On the other hand, the things that I do remember have brought much confusion to my life. I am not good at choosing men to date, nor am I good at not letting certain men choose me. I have struggled with love and hate for
my mother, and had to confess this in counseling and to God.

Thanks to my mother, I will always struggle to be the person that God intended for me to be. And even though it is a lifelong endeavor, I will not give up on myself, for I know that God is molding me to be the great writer that I desire to be. It is He who gives each of us our talents and abilities. Writing is my talent, my fastball, and my life.

Reprogramming my dysfunctional mindset is no easy task. However, it is possible. I want to be a writer desperately enough to fight for my mind. With God's help, I plan to become a successful writer who creates life-changing books for women who struggle with domestic violence.

With God, all things are possible:

"But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, with men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible" (Matthew 19:26). King James Version

We just have to believe.

Learn more about this author, Terry Loving.
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