Resentment is a word I am all too familiar with. I have come to realize that it is one of the least productive feelings a person can have. It does nothing but fuel grudges and feelings of anger and sadness. It is a feeling that helps you make your life continue to suck and allows you to take 0 accountability for any of it.
I have felt resentment towards many people in my life but the ones who have been the main targets of this feeling are my parents and an ex-boyfriend.
Honestly, I dread writing this post because my parents are a topic that leave a bitter taste in my mouth. It annoys me that I am their daughter but it is a part of me and part of the reason I am the way I am and you, the reader, should know some history in order to understand me better. I’ll try to keep it short.
My parents shouldn’t have been parents. They did not understand the kind of emotional support that would be needed in raising a child. They did not understand what kind of necessities a child needs in order to grow up and thrive. They basically fucked and had a couple oopsies. Did they love each other? I’m not sure, maybe at one point, but I think near the beginning that faded and they were together for convenience.
Where the resentment and anger comes from with my Mom is easy. She was selfish and craved the attention of men on the internet. Growing up she had her priorities… smokes and yahoo chat. The memories I have of her involve her sitting in the front of the computer, room filled with smoke, occasionally beating my brother and yelling at us. I remember the anger and temper tantrums she would have when she wanted to use the computer or when one of us was misbehaving. I was fucking terrified of her. During my very young years, she took that temper out on my brother. I remember her throwing him up against the wall and choking him, choke slamming him on a table I was hiding under once, spanking with wooden spoons or whatever she could get her hands on… to name a few. When he got older he put her in her place and she never touched him again.
What my mom didn’t realize she was doing by being so consumed by this fictional life on the internet, is that she missed her kids growing up, she missed teaching us lessons, she missed being a loving and affectionate mother like she should have been. She once told me she did her best with what she had, but the truth is… she didn’t. Not even fucking close. She taught me how to lash out, how to expect everything to be handed to me, she taught me a computer was worth more to her then me, she taught me money was worth more to her then me, and she taught me to ignore all my fucking problems. She didn’t teach me what it means to have a mother’s love and affection, to be caring and compassionate, to be thankful, to respect my body, to love myself and my flaws…. She taught me to be a real shitty person, not wanted and worth nothing.
Then there’s my fucking Dad. I use to be a daddy’s little girl. Oh, how I loved and looked up to him. Praised the fucking ground he walked on. I was so happy when he came home from working late or long trips. He made me laugh. He made me forget about the shit at home. Him and my grandma (his mom) made me hate my mother at an early age by manipulating me (That is a whole other fucking ball game). So when he came home or I got to go on a trip with him, I was happy to get away from her. That was until I became twelve and my tits started to grow. I noticed it early on, that my Dad had wandering eyes, I told myself it was nothing. Then I realized he would make comments about being blue-eyed and beautiful, about his friends thinking I was growing up to be pretty. I just brushed it off as fatherly love. That all changed on one of our many trips together.
I had gone to bed on the lower bunk in the back of his semi, which was his bed. Before laying down, I remember second guessing it because I had caught him looking at my chest a few times that trip already, but I concluded “naaah, he’s my Dad.” I fell asleep and woke up in the dead of night to him fondling me. I laid there frozen so he would still think I was asleep, I don’t remember breathing. I remember I was wearing a white training bra that had a little bow in the middle and he laid there, after he had done what he had set out to do, playing with that bow. I focused on the bow until he finally got out of bed and sat in the driver’s seat of the semi for a few moments, then started it and we left. I’m amazed I was able to fall asleep after, but when you are in shock, your body can do pretty interesting things. The next morning I remember putting on the biggest, bulkiest sweater I owned. We acted like nothing happened… we have acted like nothing happened to this day. I kept my distance after that but he still had wandering eyes on my friends and I, whenever he was around, years after that.
I had pushed the incident deep into the darkest parts of my mind, and made up excuse after excuse for his actions. I looked at him as if he was a child and didn’t understand what he had done. Now, I will not pretend it didn’t happen anymore, he will not be a part of my life ever again. (I’ll be diving into that deeper in my next post)
I obviously changed after that. I no longer trusted older men and their intentions, I still don’t to this day. I will always have a wall up. After that day, I soon seen my life for what it was. It was full of lies and deceit, physical, sexual and mental abuse, and manipulation. There was no fucking love.
I resent the motherfucker for what he did to me and I resent my mother for not teaching me to respect myself. If I would have been taught to love myself, I would have had the courage to tell someone what happened. Unfortunately, no one would have believed me, and if they did, it would have been shrugged off. I was already an inconvenience being born in the first place, I could not imagine being an even bigger burden with that information.
So now you can understand how I have so much resentment towards my parents, but you see, it doesn’t help me move forward from this trauma. Resentment is for the weak and the scared. I can’t tell you how many times I have cried “Oh poor me, only if I had loving parents” “Oh poor me, only if I had a better childhood.” I can blame them up to a point, because there is some scientific evidence that childhood trauma leads to bipolar disorder, but I am so sick of making excuses and seeing people of trauma make excuses. You can only feel resentment towards people for so long but there needs to be a point where you start taking accountability for your own actions. YOU and YOU alone are in charge of the outcome of your life. Sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself will not get you anywhere. I am a victim of emotional, mental and sexual abuse but I will not let that define who I am. Resentment has allowed me to blame my problems on everyone else but myself, and that’s how I discovered it serves no purpose. You just sit in a vortex of shit, and quite frankly, I’m tired of it. People need to stop sitting around and feeling sorry for themselves and blaming other people for their misfortune. I sometimes have feelings of resentment creep up into my mind, but I am training my brain to not think that way. Those thoughts need to be shut down and formed into a more positive one. As I said before, resentment is there for people to be able to complain about their lives and take ZERO accountability. I’m done with that. I’ve realized if you want to be happy and be the best person possible, this feeling needs to go! ‘Go’ as in ‘Byeeeee, see you never!’ If you only let your past teach you lessons and grow from it and realize the past is the past, you can become such a strong and determined person. I have little sympathy for people who sit around and say “Boohoo, poor me” and are doing nothing to fix their situation. It’s harsh but it’s the fucking truth.
I see people on some support groups I follow who are like that. I want to shake them and say “Get up, get moving, eat a fucking vegetable, stop letting your past and bad experiences define who you are. You are so much more than that. Stop letting this consume you and free yourself from this burden and the resentment you hold on to. You are in control of your life so grow some big fucking balls take control”
I am DONE ignoring what happened to me and am READY to learn and grow from it. I am DONE with my parents and their excuses and taking ZERO accountability for what they did. I am READY to become a better person, better than they ever will be or could even imagine to be. I am DONE with that negativity in my life. I am DONE with resentment. I am DONE feeling sorry for myself and what happened to me.
It’s time to stop holding on to feelings of resentment. Own up, move on, and make life your biotch.