narcissism (noun) - selfishness, involving a sense of entitlement, a lack of empathy, and a need for admiration, as characterizing a personality type.
my mother was beautiful. it’s true. a real bonafide beauty queen. armed with poise, grace, talent, natural beauty, carefully practiced soft spoken words, and a constant polite smile.
so shiny and perfect and wonderful. on the outside.
on the inside, however, she was one of the ugliest people to have ever stepped foot on this earth. she was mean, vindictive, manipulative, vain, narcissistic, cruel, selfish. ugly.
another doll in the dollhouse. fooling everyone she came in contact with, having them all think that she was so demure and innocent.
when I was 11 and finally came forward about being repeatedly sexually abused for 6 years by my own grandfather (my mother’s father), my mother decided to sacrifice my safety and well being in order to protect her “Christian reputation.”
“this is embarrassing” “what will the rest of the church think of us?” “Lindsey don't say anything to anyone about this, it’s shameful and gross” “I cant believe this is happening to me”
she never told me that it wasn't my fault. because she blamed me for ruining her perfect world. her perfect family. her perfect image.
instead of blaming my abuser, she blamed me, the terrified and lonely 11 year old victim.
she made the abuse that I had to endure, about herself. her permanent victim mentality bled through into everything, even her own daughter’s sexual abuse. she decided to stick her head in the ground like a coward and pretend like the abuse didn't happen, and if I ever tried to bring it up or exhibited a behavior attributed to PTSD she would cry and make it all about herself. because everything was always about her. always.
more often than not, I find myself wishing that I had a mother that loved me. but she never did, and she never will. so I've decided to lay it all out in the open here and write a public letter to her in order to obtain the closure I need to move on with my life:
Dear Stephanie,
I would like to start off by saying that you lost the right to refer to yourself as my “mother” the second you decided to protect the man who destroyed my childhood instead of protecting me. because of you, the monster that ripped away any sense of safety, happiness, comfort, trust, and humanity from me didn't go to jail. he wasn't even registered as a sex offender. a cretin that sexually abused his own granddaughter from when she was the ages of 5-11 wasn't even registered as a sex offender because YOU and your wretched family cried to the judge and prosecutor because you wanted to protect your false pious reputation. what you did was beyond the realm of evil, and I hope you feel shame for it for the rest of your empty pathetic existence.
when I was 13 I overheard you while you were talking to your morally bankrupt mother on the phone. you were complaining about how I “wasn’t getting any better.” and how “it was embarrassing that I couldn't just let the past go.” well, while you tried to pretend like the abuse just never happened, I couldn't. you don't know what it’s like to have someone hold complete power over you. you don't know what it’s like to live in desolation as a child, fearful of being trapped in a room alone with your grandfather because you know he takes pleasure in hurting and destroying everything that you are. you don't know what it’s like to have your innocence and childhood completely ripped from your tiny fingertips before you even know how to spell your own fucking name. you never even bothered to try and understand the pain and suffering I had to endure. you didn't care about anything other than yourself, and your public image.
you never apologized. and you never will, because you’re too far gone to even begin to understand the calamity of your shitty parenting, and your heinous decisions. you created your own false reality, and separated yourself from the true world because all you wanted was attention. me being the victim of sexual abuse was just too much of the “spotlight” not being directed to you, so you decided to make yourself the victim in all of this. any mention of what I had to endure and you’d cry, asking why this happened to you. your reputation, your family, you you you you you you you.
a few years after the “scandal,” as you so gracefully put it, happened, you and I were shopping at the mall. all of a sudden you pulled me aside into a store, giggling as you did so. when I asked what was going on, you pointed across the hall and there he was. the monster that tortured and molested me for six years, walking with his enabler of a wife, hand and hand, shopping at the same mall as us. he was free because of you. and you were treating it as if it were some kind of innocent game of hide and seek. acting as though me having to see the embodiment of detrimental and ground wavering fear and pain was no big deal. you got angry at me when I started crying, because I was ruining your shopping trip.
you’re impossible to reach, because you don't even exist anymore. you just don't get it. you’re not even human. you’re just a phantom, remnants of some washed up beauty queen who was so narcissistic and vain that she couldn't stand her own daughter surviving life destroying trauma at age 11 because it drew attention from you.
you were my biggest bully throughout the entirety of my life. no matter what I did, it was never good enough for you. or maybe it was, and you just thought it was fun to build me up one step, then cut me down five steps. I was always too ugly, too fat, too smart, too stupid, too untalented, too poorly dressed, too bad at makeup, too this, too that, not enough this, not enough that. it was exhausting, talking to you. being around your suffocatingly negative and jealous aura. you were so insecure about yourself and your fading beauty queen looks that you took it all out on your only child, like a miserable old hag. and yet you wondered why I never wanted to cultivate a relationship with you.
I still vividly remember the moment I realized that you never loved me. it was June 2010, I was 15, and you and my dad were in the midst of a stressful divorce. it was stressful because you refused to leave the house, even though you weren't welcome, because you just loved to make everyone around you completely miserable; but I digress. we were sitting in your car in front of the house, and I told you that when the divorce was finalized I wanted to live with my dad full time, and for him to have full custody of me. it was then that you turned, looked directly at me, and said, “Lindsey that’s not fair. I don't want to have to pay child support.” you truly are a miserable monster, just like your mother, and just like your father.
there aren't enough words in this galaxy to explain how much you completely and utterly failed me in every aspect of being a mother. and honestly, I just don't have the time to waste on you anymore. I'm writing this to fully stop all of these thoughts, all these words left unsaid, from continuing to circle around in my brain. you aren't worth the stress, you really aren't. I cant even remember the last time I spoke to you, or saw you, because I cut off all contact years ago. maybe once upon a time I needed you as my mother, but when I realized that you were never one to begin with, that need faded. I grew strong on my own. I am who I am because I made me, and I did a hell of a good job. you don't get to take any credit in my successes, in my life, in my survival, because you are nothing to me.
congratulations, Stephanie. you finally get what you’ve always wanted, the unwavering heat of the spotlight, because I'm exiting your stage for good.
I don't forgive you, I'm not sure I ever will. because you don't deserve it. saying, “I'm sorry for whatever I may have done to upset you,” is NOT an apology. it’s not even a small step in taking actual accountability. but I don't expect much from someone as selfish and fake as you.
before you try to pretend to cry and say that I'm being mean to you, just know this, you aren't a victim. I'm not your true adversary here. you are your own worst enemy. these are just the consequences to your own narcissistic and evil actions, and you have to live with them forever in your empty, loveless, fake life.
you’ve always preached about how much of a “good christian” you are, and threw me away in order to protect that precious reputation of yours, so I'll end with this: I hope you’re somewhere praying.
Sincerely,
The Daughter Who No Longer Thinks Of You
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