Consume Product

> also why is she trying to get a 2 year old to play soccer? LOL kids don't begin sports until about age 5.

Yeah this is definitely extreme example here, but it is another staple trait of these women. Since they don't see their children as having inherent worth, they need to shoehorn them into status-boosting activities that inflate their own egos. Mine did the same.

> How long did you personally suffer until you began to realize your mother's abuse was the cause of some of the mental health or character problems you struggle with?

It was more of a binary—and very trippy—event than a "beginning to realize" in my case. Kind of a long story but to condense it as much as I can:

I became subconsciously aware of it early on, but stayed with her up until my mid 20s. I was desperate to make her understand the ways she'd hurt me and show remorse, but when she proved to be a sociopath in the face of accountability over *years*, I gave up and just started performing surface warmth to milk her for resources. I originally started living in my van in her driveway after she purposely put me in a dangerous situation that made me realize I'm physically not safe remaining under her autonomy. I thought I was enacting "justice" by *taking* from her, but not really *loving* her.

But then I had a chance, erotically charged encounter with a woman online that utterly cracked me open. I staged an interaction where I "surrendered" myself to her in a whole, soul-embodied sense, and rather than abusing or ignoring it as she could have done, she warmly accepted it, and affectionately contained me with "ownership" framing.

Even though it was just a little D/s game we were playing, my limbic system unironically registered this as the first instance in my entire life where I had been safely "held" inside someone else's emotional infrastructure—as a baby experiences when it's being softly shushed in its mother's bosom. My animal brain immediately went: "Finally. There she is. *Mother.* **Attach."**

I proceeded to experience an earth-shattering flood of oxytocin that was more intense than some drug trips I've been on, and my body entered a state of visceral age regression for almost 90 minutes. I was unable to properly verbalize as my adult self. My limbs were heavy and floaty as I sobbed and screeched in a primal, pre-verbal infant voice—which under normal circumstances gets locked away in ancient memory after you grow up.

Basically I got to physically re-experience being that baby abandoned in a dark room all over again as an adult. It made me realize at the *body level* the sheer evil of what had been done to me, and that all the gaslighting, denial, and justification my mother had tried to pull over on me was *unforgivable.* And that by continuing to siphon her resources, I was only giving her ego an excuse to believe that what she'd done "wasn't that bad."

I moved my things out of her house less than a week later while she was at work, then promptly cut off all contact. I will never speak to her again.

> Perhaps you can meet a graceful woman to give your future sons or daughters an affectionate, loving, graceful mother and then you can have repaired a portion of the universe.

I've admittedly fantasized about that "redemption arc" quite a few times, but I'm honestly terrified to have children. *Maybe* I'd be able to love them as they deserve, but maybe I'd just ruin them despite my best intentions, and greatly multiply my sins, which already weigh on me like Atlas. I still feel like a half-feral child myself, subconsciously seeing women as erotic mother-surrogates to my own wound and not as future mothers of my children.

But ultimately I do believe God is the one who decides if a man is appointed to the role of husband and father—regardless of the man's own disposition towards the matter. So I'll just keep living and let Him decide.