I subconsciously chose situations that felt familiar to me. My toxic environment had shaped me. My mother’s violent relationships were what I was born into.
The cycle was intrinsically wired into my brain. They would love each other one minute and the next they were fighting and then they would have violent sex. It was like that for her entire life.
Subconsciously this is all I knew about relationships. Studies have proven that the first 6 years of a child’s life is when they are the most impressionable.
What children learn about the world during this time will be what is subconsciously their default. This is one reason I kept choosing the same women.
I kept looking for the unconditional love that only a mother could give in the arms of my female lovers only to find the same narcissistic behavior.
I wrote this poem while healing from a lifetime of narcissistic abuse that started with my mother.
My therapist asked me, “Who was your first narcissist?”, this poem is the epiphany.
I kept marrying my mother
Over and over, I begged her to love me
To hold me, laugh with me, instead of mocking me
She abandoned me and I never knew
When or if I would ever see her again
So over and over I begged her to love me
To hold me and never let me go
I kept marrying my mother over and over
The all behaved just like her
Intently looking for places to dagger me to death
The buildup, the let down
Lying on me so the story sounds
true for those in the neighborhood
I am gifting, finally
My permission to hate who you were
I will take that hate and transmute it to self-love
Accepting, It is not me, that was her madness
My guilt was that I destroyed my children
Because it was so hard to be a mother
When the first time I can remember
she abandoned me when I was three
she called me a murderer to hide her degradation
I was scapegoated while she lied on me continuously
This is why, I kept sacrificing everything
Begging her to love me
the same narcissistic cycle
my brain was programmed that way
narcissists loved bomb me
without apology or acknowledgement
of the blood drawn from my soul
I was the best ever
Until they got cold
After that, I wasn’t shit
I just waited until
I was the bomb diggity again
Soon we would be out on display again
Outside the doors life was grand
Within those walls though
Your ass was a (female dog)
By yvette mozayik