I Harmed My 7 Kids Because I Just Wanted To Be Loved
I thought I was doing the right thing, but I became a mother for the wrong reasons.
golubovy, Kameleon007 | Canva When I first found out I was pregnant with my oldest son, I wasn’t sure I could be a mother. I was an only child, as my brother died when I was an infant. I had never been around young children. My grandma raised me, so most of my upbringing was around her friends who were in their 60s and 70s.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could be a good mother. My mother was not a role model. She has never cared about me. She abused me as a young child, and CPS had to remove me from her care and placed me with my grandma, her mother.
After Nick, my oldest son, was born, I froze. I couldn’t hold him or change his diaper for 24 hours. I wasn’t sure I could do it. I wanted to, but something in me was scared to try. A very kind and patient nurse came into my room and showed me how to hold my son, feed him, and change his diaper/clothes. She was so patient with me and validated my feelings.
She told me it was OK to be afraid of being a mom. But that I had to face it and take care of my boy.
It wasn’t long after that I learned the ropes. I was good at it, at least I thought. Within 12 years, I had six more children with a man I loathed. Our home was toxic and harmed the lives of all our children.
I decided to write this to examine why I had so many children with a man who never had any of our best interests in mind.
I think it goes back to my childhood. I wanted a family more than anything. I grew up with grandma and had a great childhood. However, something was missing. I longed to have a mom. I longed to know details about my dad, who died when I was two of cancer. It wasn’t my grandma’s fault because she was merely protecting me and doing her best to raise me.
That longing resulted in me wanting a large family. Kids made me feel loved. They adored me while they were young. I was good at parenting young children. Teens, on the other hand, were much more complicated. They forced me to confront my feelings of inadequacy and flaws.
As my three older sons, ages 25, 23, and 21, grew older, they began to see my flaws. They began to see me as the broken person I was. I tried to work on myself, but the toxic upbringing they had with their father was too much. They decided to move away when they became adults and rarely contact me. My daughter, 19, did the same.
It was then I realized that my emotional baggage damaged my relationship with my kids. I was an emotional mess. I am still recovering from narcissistic abuse from their father. I never realized that this recovery would likely be a lifelong battle.
I am better than I was even a year ago but my scars are still there. In moments of high conflict, I want to run and avoid it. It’s part of my trauma, and I am working on myself to learn better coping skills. Now, I have my three youngest children, ages 15, 14, and 12. They are amazing creatures. I love them so much. They are the best parts of me. I see myself in each of them — some good and some bad. But I have never regretted having any of them. My only regret is how my unresolved trauma affected their lives.
After soul searching, I figured I had so many children with my ex-husband because I wanted to be loved. There is nothing like a child’s love for their mother. It made me feel whole for a short time. I have so much guilt over bringing seven children into this world to satisfy my need to be loved. It wasn’t their responsibility to make me feel better about myself.
I am glad I had each one of my kids. They are all great people with their own strengths and weaknesses. They are funny, intelligent, witty, and completely authentic. I taught them to be themselves even when it’s hard. I taught them honesty is better than living a lie. I led them to believe in themselves even when others laughed at their dreams.
I hope my children can forgive me for having them for my own selfish reasons. I had no idea then that I needed them to love me to make me feel whole. I never should have put all of that responsibility on them. They are all successes in their own way. They are members of society with good jobs and loving partners. They learned from my mistakes and seemed to make good life decisions. They are happy and content with their lives. There’s nothing more than I could ask for as their mother.
So this is how I harmed seven lives by trying to find the love I craved. Ruined is the wrong word. I don’t know what the right word is. I know I love my children. They love me and accept me as I am. They know my flaws as I know theirs.
Even though I was searching to be loved by becoming a mother, I am so glad I had them. They brought so much joy into my life as I have watched them grow from a newborn to the adults they are now.
If you think you may be experiencing depression or anxiety as a result of ongoing emotional abuse at the hands of a narcissist, you are not alone.
Domestic abuse can happen to anyone and is not a reflection of who you are or anything you've done wrong.
If you feel as though you may be in danger, there is support available 24/7/365 through the National Domestic Violence Hotline by calling 1-800-799-7233. If you’re unable to speak safely, text LOVEIS to 1-866-331-9474, or log onto thehotline.org.
Chrissie Massey is a writer who loves to share her life experiences with her readers. She has contributed to Yahoo News, Examiner, Inquisitr, Newsbreak, and Medium.