Right now, it is very confusing for me to be subjective and objective about the same thing, like a watercolour painting in the rain.
As a victim, I identified my mother as a co-victim (white). As I learn more about how parents are supposed to act, and how adults are supposed to protect kids, my view of her is beginning to turn black.
When my father left, my mother also abandoned me soon after. This is when things became grey.
I used to believe that my mother loved me. Now all I know is that she loved me as a baby, but what she feels towards me now, I do not know.
I guess I am beginning to feel resentment towards her for not improving my life when she was in a position to. She admits to pride, but it is still all too convenient for her to blame everything on my father. She chose to marry him. She chose not to leave. I used to fantasize so much about running away and how I would make ends meet without my parents (before I was even a teenager).
Yes, these thoughts are selfish. I admit that. There's just still so much pain, and all I want is for someone to protect me from this viscious world.