I came to the same conclusion. I know how my mom reacts to news she doesn’t like - she defaults to denial. My memory has always been stronger than hers, so there’s no shortage of incidents that I remember, that she has long forgotten. (The tree remembers what the axe forgot, after all.) If I were to attempt to bring things up, she’d deny such things ever happened. Instead of me having catharsis and her having self-recognition, I’d be put in a defensive position and she’d say I’m exaggerating or making things up. Which is to say, attempting to have a serious talk with her always makes me feel worse.
Thankfully, I have siblings, and they remember what our childhood was like. We have all given up on trying to get our mom to see the light. Instead, we have a secret group chat where we can vent as needed.
I love to make a positive impression on the world. I love to empower children, give comfort to those around me, to volunteer my energy and talents for a greater good.
But in the back of my mind, sometimes there’s a little voice that reminds me, “Whatever good you put into the world, your mom can vicariously claim to have created. This will never not be true, because she is responsible for your existence.”
And I hate it. I learned what not to be by observing her. I learned how hypocrites are able to function, how some people are able to override reality with their “feelings,” and how manipulators manage to get their way. Credit goes where it’s due, for sure, but she really shouldn’t be proud of the things she taught me. I became who I am in spite of her, not because of her.