My Mom was a Bad Mom, but I loved her!

‘Mom, you’re a bad Mom!’

Not really something you want to get in a card for Mother’s day. It is something that I had to come to understand so that I would be able to move on and forgive her. I had to realize that she did not put me ahead of herself; she did not protect me at all cost; and she did not make me feel like it was a blessing to be my Mom.

I realize that for some this is hard to read. Some have told me that they will not read this. That is okay. I understand I’m saying this about your sister, aunt, or friend. The person you know is not the person I knew, and the person I know is not the person you knew.

She has been gone for 25+ years now, and I do not tell my story(key here being My),  to hurt anyone, but to help those who hang onto unforgiveness.

God delivered me out of the darkness of anger and hate for my Mom. So this in why I need to share this.

I really don’t know much about my Mom’s life as a kid. I know my Grandpa was a hard man. He made her pitch a tent ten times once, just to get it right! She married young, had my sister and divorced my dad by the time I was only one. I remember hanging out at a pizza place/bar a lot as a little girl. She married my step-dad when I was four! It was the family joke that I picked him one day when I wrapped my arms around his neck and said, “I wish you were my daddy” at the Copper Cat Drive In.

I did get a new daddy, he was a lot older than my mom. They both worked at the same place. He drank a lot. Kinda like my old daddy did. But this one isn’t mean, he likes to hug me and ‘love on’ me.

From the time I was six to the age of twelve, my new “papa” is what I called him, loved me. Yes, he is one of the worst forms of pedophile; you don’t know you are being abused. My mother is angry all the time and I can’t seem to do anything right.

I am having trouble in school. They call me a “bully”. My ‘Dad’ tells me that if I don’t win the fights at school, he will kick my butt. Yet the only one who does ‘love’ me is Papa. I would even seek out the attention.

My Mom had a heart attack at 32, and is not working anymore. She has us girls call the bar to see when our Papa is coming home for dinner.

From the outside, it all looks normal, me and my sister were not allowed to go over to our friend’s houses, we don’t have friends come over to ours ever. One Christmas we move up the the mountains so now we are even farther away from everyone.

I can’t really tell you why or what the moment was when I knew what was going on between me and Papa just was not right. All I knew was; it had to stop. It was making me feel dirty. It was not making me feel ‘loved’ any more. Other people’s Daddy’s didn’t do this, it was BAD!

I had to make him stop. One day when no one was home, I just asked him to please stop. I told him that I knew it was not right and he should not touch me anymore. And he never did. OH! I did have a shotgun in my hand at the time.

You may read this and say, “How sad! How is her Mom the bad Mom?”

Out of all of my abusers, it was my Mom who was the hardest for me to forgive.

The Dad who beat me and tried to cause an abortion; I forgave even when he did not feel he needed it.

The step-Dad who ‘loved’ me too much and took away my innocence, I forgave.

The Mom who blamed me and failed to protect me; I was angry at for a long time. It was her job, at all cost, to keep me safe. I didn’t do this, she did.

To heal the broken, you first have to know what is wrong. So to find the love for my mother, I needed to admit that she was a bad Mom. She did not keep me safe; but she did the best that she could do, because she herself was broken also. I don’t know why she was broken,  or what caused it. I just have to let go of my anger and forgive her for the harm she caused me, and Love her as my MOM.

One of the best gifts that I was ever given as a kid, was there was a van that drove through our neighborhood and picked up kids for church. I also would go with my grandma from time to time when I was with my Dad. I didn’t know the man by name the first time I meet him, but I later came to know him as Jesus, my Lord and Savior, He is my saving grace.

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2 thoughts on “My Mom was a Bad Mom, but I loved her!

  1. Dreams June 1, 2013 at 9:50 pm Reply

    Thank you for sharing your testimony. Forgiveness is so hard especially without God’s help. It takes a lot of strength to write what you just wrote.

    • Deena Siddle June 2, 2013 at 2:17 pm Reply

      Thank you for reading, God gets all the glory for the healing of my heart.

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