I have nothing to hide. Other people in the children’s lives cannot say the same, but that is on them, not me. I can’t imagine living a mockery of a sham life, one false prop stacked upon another, hoping the mask doesn’t slip too far, forcing others to read their lines and play their parts so everything doesn’t come crumbling down. Honesty and just being exactly who I am work best for me.
Part of my stalker’s obsession with my words is her need to control what is said about her, her need to force the narrative to support her lies. I know the truth, and the truth terrifies her, because all of her disgusting and shameful ugliness is laid bare to anyone willing to accept reality.
What is the truth? Let’s see. My youngest stepdaughter is failing three classes, has missed 20% of this school year, and has been suspended already. How is anyone supposed to overlook such obvious dysfunction and believe this woman has even a sliver of parenting ability or the slightest concern about the wellbeing of the children?
In time, the two middle children will be where the oldest one is now: still struggling with the reality that his own mother truly doesn’t care about anyone but herself, never has, and cannot be the mother he wants and needs. There is no way to prepare a child to face the ultimate reality that their mother is a selfish, manipulative parasite whose maternal skills were violently expelled with the placenta.
Since the kids were tiny, I have struggled with how to protect them, how to shield them from the agony of the day they fully open their eyes to what their mother really is. I have looked into their tearful faces as they ask why she lies so much. I have held them on my lap when they were scared and couldn’t possibly understand her rage or hurtful words. I have quietly listened as they got older and started to catch on that something about her is not right — other mothers don’t act like this — and are increasingly embarrassed by her behavior.
The kids are manipulated, lied to, jerked around, brainwashed, all to make their mother’s life easier, appease her ego, and maintain the façade that she is a decent human being and a wonderful mother. If the kids are chewed up, spit out, and destroyed in her attempt to make others believe she is something she is not, then so be it. She quite honestly doesn’t care about them, anyway.
I understand her desire to live a lie. Because the truth is, she is over 50 years old with no significant accomplishments, completely supported by her father, already long surpassed in adult accomplishments by my older stepson, and intensely disliked by anyone who has seen who she really is. Her delusions soothe her, comfort her into believing she is not an abysmal failure.
She knows the truth, though, no matter how much she promotes and defends her lies. She is too weak-willed to be motivated to improve herself or strive to be a better person, however, so she just lies some more and gets irrationally angry at anyone who refuses to swallow her fairy tale.
I know the truth. So does she. In time, so will the kids. That is the scariest, and most heartbreaking, part of all.
Sweat & Sparkle 