My mother thinks she's not to blame for all the bad things that happened in her children's lives.

My mother was born in the sixties. As you know, at that time, parents are partial to their sons than their daughters and as much as she denies it, she carried that belief while she was taking care of us, her three daughters.

Does this matter? Of course, it did.

When I was younger, my sisters liked to say, "You are very lucky. Mom doesn't beat you up when you make a mistake." Not only was that half false, she didn't just beat me up, she ignored me.

As the youngest in the family, everyone thought I was the favorite. I wasn't. I grew up without emotional support from my mother. I grew up learning that my own mother wouldn't be there for me so I had to do it by myself. I grew up with my mother who took me everywhere to catch a glimpse of my older sisters who were rebelling. I grew up finding out what would happen if my mother never liked my choices. So, I followed her. I followed her rules. I followed what she said. I grew up wanting her approval and even at my best, I wasn't enough. I got tired. I felt betrayed. I tried explaining this to her, but she always brushed me off. She always told me, "that is in the past" like the pain and suffering I have felt still doesn't affect me, and my life choices. Like she thinks time was enough to heal me. It didn't. The wound just became a scar and festered.

I knew I had mommy issues. I am aware that I am mentally unwell but it didn't cure to me on how it much it affected my life. You know what they call the pain people like me have, people like me who have mothers who never liked their daughters?

Mother wound. They call it that. How poetic. I have read this article like a Bible. Like I finally saw what was wrong with me.

"Self-sabotage." I was self-sabotaging because of the pain she inflicted on me. And then blame me why I didn't grow up the way she wanted me to be. If ask her, why is that so, mother? I have no doubt in my mind she will tell me, "it is in the past, move on." And I have. And where did it took me? Right from the start.

She wasn't a bad mother. But she wasn't good either. She did her best with the cards she had dealt with. I am grateful for her, but if I had another chance to live, I certainly hope she wouldn't have me.

Because she loves me, I know, but she never liked me. She never did.