Project Hate Myself Less–day 4

Yeah, so as good as it was to relax and do pretty much nothing today, I consider the whole day a failure.

My daughter told me she submitted a poem to the school literary magazine–a poem about me.  She said she was mad when she wrote it.  It’s all about how I grieved for the child I lost and how I nearly lost her brother.  She said she talked about how it would have killed me, because she wasn’t good enough.  She asked me what I thought about that.  I told her she was the only thing that kept me going through all that pain and grief.  Doesn’t matter what I say, or what I have done, she wants to hate me.

I get it, I really do.  She’s 14.  She’s pulling away from me.  She thinks she needs to hate me, she wants to hate me.  I refuse to let her grow up too fast, to get into situations that will cause her suffering she isn’t ready to handle.  I get it.  She’s 14.  She doesn’t see the possible outcomes and consequences of her choices.  She wants to do what she wants to do.  Just because I understand doesn’t make it hurt any less.

How can I hate myself less when the child I have given every part of me hates me half the time?

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