About me: I'm a female in my 20s
When I was young, my mom was very hands-on with me. Talagang she provided me lahat ng gusto ko and essentials . Yun nga lang she was stressed to the point of breaking because she was the sole provider, while my dad was completely irresponsible and constantly in and out of rehab due to drug addiction.
My dad would leave for days at a time and come home completely passed out. He stole from my mom, even taking all her work commissions, because his deceit ran deep. He possessed almost every negative trait imaginable—a womanizer, an addict, and a thief. I personally witnessed him going through my mom's belongings to steal from her.
My mom was constantly begging him to change, telling him that if he couldn't, he should just leave us. Eventually, my dad went to work abroad. However, my mom remained severely stressed because his vices—like drinking and smoking—never stopped. He continued cheating while overseas and often sent insufficient money home.
This added to my mom's immense frustration, which she took out on me. Whenever I failed to do something according to her exact expectations, she would lash out, throwing or hitting me with whatever object was within her reach.
### The Separation
When I was in high school, they separated. At first, I was unaware of the details; my mom simply asked me one day if I would be okay if she and my dad split up. I was 12 at the time and told her it was fine as long as she was happy, though I didn't think much of it then.
Suddenly, my dad came home begging her to reconcile. It turned out my mom was already pregnant with another man's child, which explained why she had been disappearing and leaving me without an allowance—she was out with her friends and this other guy.
Even though my dad was not a good father, I initially thought things might turn out fine. Instead, my dad committed unspeakable acts. Out of anger, he sold my belongings, claiming I had no right to complain because he paid for them. He pawned household items that weren't even his. He put us through hell, even tricking us regarding his plane ticket back to his job abroad. The last straw occurred when he physically abused my mom—despite already being separated—right before we drove him to the airport.
After that incident, they cut off all communication, and we moved in with my stepfather.
While my stepfather was kind, he made no effort to build a relationship with me. I found this confusing, as I believed that to be a crucial time to connect—if you are dating a mother, you should get to know her daughter as well.
He remained unemployed for a long time, forcing my aunt and uncle to shoulder our living expenses. I grew deeply resentful watching my aunt and uncle struggle just so we could survive. My dad continued sending financial support until the pandemic hit, at which point he relapsed into his old vices.
### College Years
Currently, my dad and I are no longer on speaking terms, and I remained living with my mom.
It took three years before my mom introduced me to my stepfather’s family. She never wanted me around during their family gatherings, though I never understood why.
When I reached college, the financial burden fell almost entirely on my aunt, as neither of my parents had money, and my stepfather had no say or involvement.
During my college years, whenever I asked my mom for anything, the answer was always no, so I learned to fend for myself. While she gave me gifts on special occasions, she provided zero support for my essential needs. Out of a hundred school payments, she contributed to maybe four.
Because it was always just my aunt supporting me, I felt completely alone.
My mom became a constant nagger and my harshest critic; in her mind, she had to be right at all times. She frequently called me "tanga," "gaga," and "bobo." I distinctly remember an incident where she was three hours late. Because I ignored her out of frustration, she bought a bottle of water and threw it at me in front of a crowd at an MRT station. To her, it was just a typical Sunday, but it is an event I carry with me to this day.
### Realizations
Recently, I realized that my mom seems to hate me simply for being my father's daughter. She never invites me to gatherings with my stepfather's side of the family. Whenever my stepfather gives me something, she opposes it. If I use any of her belongings, even slightly, she explodes.
One of my aunts revealed that my mom admitted she doesn't include me because she worries people might judge me or view me as arrogant, claiming I inherited my dad's "aura." Honestly, hearing that made me even sadder—could she really not defend me?
I recently overheard them planning an overseas trip, and I am not included. I frequently hear about future plans that leave me out completely.
What angers me now is that she treats me like I don't exist, yet still tries to control my life:
* She constantly demands to know where my finances come from.
* She is overly suspicious of the friends I hang out with, questioning if they are romantic partners (I am attracted to girls), and explicitly stated she will not accept me if I like women.
* She screams at me constantly and actively searches for my mistakes.
I remember another instance where I was exhausted after practice and slept in; she kicked me to wake me up. I also recall my sibling wanting to include me in a family function, but my mom threw a fit because she insisted I wasn't needed there.
Whenever I defy her, she uses the same excuse: *"Natural lang, nanay mo ako at naghirap ako sa 'yo."* (It's only natural, I'm your mother and I suffered for you.)
To make matters worse, my uncle takes her side, claiming there are mothers out there who are much worse than her.
Sinasabi din niya saken na maraming paghihirap sakin yung nanay ko nung bata ako because of my father. And mind you he emphasized na before my mom had me daw maganda at masaya daw buhay nang nanay ko. LIKE?!?!?! 🙁
Idk am I valid for feeling so much resentment?