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I hate my mother… I don’t expect any judgment here, but I need to rant. I’m a man in my early thirties, and I know exactly how I feel. I’ve carried this pain for years and I just want to express it. I’ve stuttered for as long as I can remember—since I was about three years old. And what should’ve been a loving, supportive relationship with my mother turned into something deeply damaging. She made fun of me. She mocked me. She abused me. Every day, for almost 18 years, she would belittle me. She did it in front of people, so I never knew when she would snap. I dreaded the moments when I had to speak because I knew it was coming. I couldn’t even get a word out without fearing humiliation. She justified it all by saying she was “angry” and that mocking me was her way of “teaching me a lesson.” I was a child. A vulnerable child. And she thought this was okay. I’ve done well in life despite the stutter (I still stutter and everyday is still a challenge for me) , but no success or achievement has ever filled the void that was left by those years of trauma. The pain still cuts deep, and every time I remember the things she did, it feels as fresh as it did back then. My childhood was full of fear and pain, always walking on eggshells, always wondering when she would lash out next. I don’t have even an iota of self confidence because of all these She’s still the same person, and I’ve learned to stop letting her abuse me. But recently, I confronted her ( cried a lot during the conversation). I told her what she did was wrong and asked how she could treat her own child like that. How could she mock me for something I had no control over? Her response? She shrugged it off and said she didn’t even remember doing it. As if it was nothing and she had no idea that it used to affect me so much. As if I hadn’t spent years suffering because of her cruelty. My father, on the other hand, was a good man but a coward. He stood by and watched as she did this, never intervened, never protected me. I’ve made peace with him, but it doesn’t change what happened. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of carrying this. Tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt. Because it does. And I don’t know how to forgive it.🙂