From the day I was born, my mother was extremely jealous of me. She was abusive both verbally and physically. If not for my Dad, my brothers and my maternal Grandmother, I may not have survived.
Lessons are to be learned from all life’s experiences. One thing is for certain, jealousy has consequences. She was constantly nagging my Dad about everything.
My mother’s behavior became one of the many things I would avoid in my adult life. I swore I would never allow myself to be like her.
On many occasions, she would chop off most of my hair, hoping I would not be pretty any more. My school pics are evidence of this tirade she would have on my beautiful locks of long red hair. Ironically, she used to have a few sayings that “beauty is only skin deep and beauty is as beauty does”. I wish I could tell you about all the fun and amusing momisms that I grew up with but sadly, she never had anything nice to say to me. Even my brothers had memories of things she did to them that I have no memory of but I believe them as I know she was capable of much worse.
I saw her, briefly, after I moved out of my Dads house and I told her I wished I’d known she would be moving out a week after I did because I would have stayed. She immediately came back at me with, “you’re not going to be the woman in my home!” I retorted, “Neither are you.” And as I drove away I could hear her cussing like a sailor. She never had any filters when I was a child, so I’m not sure why I was surprised.