Hate

Ever since the kids were small, barely able to understand the words coming out of their own little mouths, I have heard “Mama hates you”.

There are many, many things sad about this, not the least of which is the kids’ repeated exposure to their mother’s vitriol and raging immaturity.  But on top of all that, I loudly call bullshit anyway.

I don’t pretend to know Psycho’s deep, dark feelings for me, but I know it’s not hate.  No one continually seeks out who or what they hate.  For example, I hate roaches.  Can’t stand ’em.  I don’t go desperately hunting for them, looking them up online, searching Facebook for pictures of them, talking about them non-stop, asking questions about them, or following them around.  I avoid them.  That is logical.

So no, I can’t buy that a woman who stalks me, follows me, and obsesses over me for over a decade, actually hates me.  That makes no rational sense.  Obviously, she has strong feelings about me, yes, but I believe she reacts so violently because of how negatively she feels about herself in comparison.

I have no control over that.  I am happy with my life, enjoy being with my husband, love my family, love my home, have pride at work, and strive to improve my health.  Should I debase myself to make her feel better about herself?  Hardly.  If she focused even half as hard on her own life as she does on mine, she may not be so miserable in the first place.

I have simply told the kids that it doesn’t matter to me what someone else thinks of me.  It’s true, and it also seems to help them feel better about the nasty, jealous things that are said about me.

I see so much being taught to the kids that is toxic: teaching them to compare themselves to others, to never be happy with what they have, to always want what someone else has, to value material possessions above the people in their lives, to focus on tearing others down instead of building themselves up.  I don’t want that garbage in their heads.  They are better than that.

As they get older, I can only hope they open their eyes to reality and decide to rise above the negativity and drama.  I can only hope they see their dad and me actually enjoying each other’s company, respecting each other, looking out for each other, and that they realize it doesn’t have to be the way they live at their other home.

It motivates me to stay the course and keep working on myself.  I want them to see me working hard for improvements, not being complacent with just putting others down for doing or being better than where I am now.  I want them to see me earning my results, not sitting around waiting for hand-outs.  I want them to be so much better than the examples they are being given by others every day.  I want them to be what I know they truly can be:  so much higher and brighter and happier than where they are forced to be now.

Author: Sweat & Sparkle

Metamorphosis: a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means View all posts by Sweat & Sparkle