Can you relate?
Every so often, something online strikes a chord with me. Today, I found that item while opening up a new browser window, as Safari automatically brings up the default page. In this case, it's AOL. The teaser line was simple: Mother admits she doesn't love her daughter. Most people would find this thought absurd. However, I don't.
Mother Admits She Doesn't Love Her Daughter
by Jennifer Jordan Jan 22nd 2009 5:02PM
Shelley Price doesn't love her own daughter, and fears she never will. This tearful mother of two is telling her story because she believes that she isn't the only mother to ever tackle such a taboo subject, and hopes she may help others come to terms with this unspeakable truth. How can this be?
(Update: The story that originally ran on dailymail.co.uk on January 22, 2009 was pulled off the site the following day. Read on and you'll see why.)
Price was just 22 when she had her eldest daughter, Catherine, now 11. Shortly after Catherine's birth, a five-year relationship with the father fizzled. That didn't help matters.
"It was obvious that something wasn't right from the start," said Price. The night Catherine was born, Price says she didn't want to look or touch her. Her maternal malfeasance continues to this day. Playgroup pickup was something to dread, she recalls no landmarks such as a first tooth and when Catherine is sick, Grandma is called in. She admits to ignoring her daughter's attempts to get her attention and not wanting to be physically close to her. "I did hug Catherine, but it was always half-hearted," Price said. "I always told her I loved her but I never really felt it or meant it."
That is just awful. Particulary when there is another child in the house now, Poppy, 2, a daughter who she calls "the love of my life" by her current partner.
I can understand how at times we might not like our children, say, when they break stuff or hit their sister. But that doesn't mean we don't love them. Also, many new moms, myself included, feel overwhelmed with the responsibility of a new baby. Coupled with the baby blues or postpartum depression, it's often very hard to bond.
I have a friend who admitted to me she wasn't immediately bowled over by her son when she first had him. Many moms go through that. But as time went on, she grew to love her son more than life itself. That's how you should feel when you have a child, right? Isn't loving our children -- whether it's at first sight or through time -- part of what makes us human?
Psychologists say that a mother's failure to love her child can result from depression, feelings of inadequacy or when the child reminds her of a bad relationship (i.e., the co-parent). Price fits neatly here, although she says not so.
On the plus side, if there is one, Price recognizes her shortcomings and is trying hard to improve her relationship with her older daughter. "Sometimes, if I've been playing with Poppy, she'll come and sit next to me, put her head on my shoulder and her arm round me, waiting for me to cuddle her," she said. "I look at her little face and know I've hurt her. I do care deeply for Catherine, but I have just never felt the same bond with her."
Instead of a good night kiss and "I love you, honey," Catherine hears a nightly whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry for the way I've been with you." Isn't your heart breaking?
Can you relate to Price? Do you feel like you don't love your children enough, or at all?
I can relate...to Catherine. My situation wasn't exactly the same, but similar enough that I can empathize with the little girl. My mom was young when I was born, only a year older than this mother when she had Catherine. The article doesn't say whether Shelley Price never wanted her daughter, only that she never bonded with her after her birth. While she's never flat out said it, my mother didn't want me. That has been made clear over time, and continually. This was never a problem with my father. And it's not that my mother completely 100% doesn't love me, but she is incapable of unconditional love. Mothers shouldn't maliciously tease their children if they're overweight. Mothers shouldn't pick on their children for things they can't help, like how their feet are. I have a natural turn-out. My feet do not face straight ahead. My mother used to harp on me about this constantly. I know there was a point in time where I wore special shoes to correct my feet, though I think it was for something else; you'd think she'd be slightly more understanding, but no. And it's not like I could tell her once, um, this is my physiology, and I can't help this unless I get expensive and unnecessary surgery. No. She honestly cannot comprehend it, and it gets to the point where I literally want to beat some sense into her. An angrier version of me probably would have tried this long ago, but luckily I'm able to hold off those feelings.
I think I've told people that my mother loved the dog more than me. She did. Gizmo was her pwecious little baby. It's not that he could do no wrong, but I guess she could play with him and brush his hair and he wouldn't talk back to her. I don't really remember at this point. Oh, I think it was more that she simply preferred to spend time with him at the expense of the rest of the animals, including me. Kirby used to hate my mother, seriously hate her. He knew she liked the dog better and would hiss and bite when she'd try to come near. It was only after Gizmo passed on that Kirby started being nicer to mom, and that's only because she finally took an interest in him, never mind that she's the one who brought him home in the first place.
Mom tends to blame me for everything. Look, it's not my fault she couldn't keep her legs closed and got pregnant by someone she didn't know very well. Nobody put a gun to her head and made her get married. Nobody forced her to keep me. She made her choices. Now if only she'd face up to the consequences, maybe it would be possible for her to be happy for once in her life. However, she's the type of person who's only happy if she's miserable. If I take away something to complain about, she'd just complain about that for the rest of my life. Oh, goody. But in case any of you wondered why I have a crappy relationship with my mother, this is a huge part of that.
Mother Admits She Doesn't Love Her Daughter
by Jennifer Jordan Jan 22nd 2009 5:02PM
Shelley Price doesn't love her own daughter, and fears she never will. This tearful mother of two is telling her story because she believes that she isn't the only mother to ever tackle such a taboo subject, and hopes she may help others come to terms with this unspeakable truth. How can this be?
(Update: The story that originally ran on dailymail.co.uk on January 22, 2009 was pulled off the site the following day. Read on and you'll see why.)
Price was just 22 when she had her eldest daughter, Catherine, now 11. Shortly after Catherine's birth, a five-year relationship with the father fizzled. That didn't help matters.
"It was obvious that something wasn't right from the start," said Price. The night Catherine was born, Price says she didn't want to look or touch her. Her maternal malfeasance continues to this day. Playgroup pickup was something to dread, she recalls no landmarks such as a first tooth and when Catherine is sick, Grandma is called in. She admits to ignoring her daughter's attempts to get her attention and not wanting to be physically close to her. "I did hug Catherine, but it was always half-hearted," Price said. "I always told her I loved her but I never really felt it or meant it."
That is just awful. Particulary when there is another child in the house now, Poppy, 2, a daughter who she calls "the love of my life" by her current partner.
I can understand how at times we might not like our children, say, when they break stuff or hit their sister. But that doesn't mean we don't love them. Also, many new moms, myself included, feel overwhelmed with the responsibility of a new baby. Coupled with the baby blues or postpartum depression, it's often very hard to bond.
I have a friend who admitted to me she wasn't immediately bowled over by her son when she first had him. Many moms go through that. But as time went on, she grew to love her son more than life itself. That's how you should feel when you have a child, right? Isn't loving our children -- whether it's at first sight or through time -- part of what makes us human?
Psychologists say that a mother's failure to love her child can result from depression, feelings of inadequacy or when the child reminds her of a bad relationship (i.e., the co-parent). Price fits neatly here, although she says not so.
On the plus side, if there is one, Price recognizes her shortcomings and is trying hard to improve her relationship with her older daughter. "Sometimes, if I've been playing with Poppy, she'll come and sit next to me, put her head on my shoulder and her arm round me, waiting for me to cuddle her," she said. "I look at her little face and know I've hurt her. I do care deeply for Catherine, but I have just never felt the same bond with her."
Instead of a good night kiss and "I love you, honey," Catherine hears a nightly whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry for the way I've been with you." Isn't your heart breaking?
Can you relate to Price? Do you feel like you don't love your children enough, or at all?
I can relate...to Catherine. My situation wasn't exactly the same, but similar enough that I can empathize with the little girl. My mom was young when I was born, only a year older than this mother when she had Catherine. The article doesn't say whether Shelley Price never wanted her daughter, only that she never bonded with her after her birth. While she's never flat out said it, my mother didn't want me. That has been made clear over time, and continually. This was never a problem with my father. And it's not that my mother completely 100% doesn't love me, but she is incapable of unconditional love. Mothers shouldn't maliciously tease their children if they're overweight. Mothers shouldn't pick on their children for things they can't help, like how their feet are. I have a natural turn-out. My feet do not face straight ahead. My mother used to harp on me about this constantly. I know there was a point in time where I wore special shoes to correct my feet, though I think it was for something else; you'd think she'd be slightly more understanding, but no. And it's not like I could tell her once, um, this is my physiology, and I can't help this unless I get expensive and unnecessary surgery. No. She honestly cannot comprehend it, and it gets to the point where I literally want to beat some sense into her. An angrier version of me probably would have tried this long ago, but luckily I'm able to hold off those feelings.
I think I've told people that my mother loved the dog more than me. She did. Gizmo was her pwecious little baby. It's not that he could do no wrong, but I guess she could play with him and brush his hair and he wouldn't talk back to her. I don't really remember at this point. Oh, I think it was more that she simply preferred to spend time with him at the expense of the rest of the animals, including me. Kirby used to hate my mother, seriously hate her. He knew she liked the dog better and would hiss and bite when she'd try to come near. It was only after Gizmo passed on that Kirby started being nicer to mom, and that's only because she finally took an interest in him, never mind that she's the one who brought him home in the first place.
Mom tends to blame me for everything. Look, it's not my fault she couldn't keep her legs closed and got pregnant by someone she didn't know very well. Nobody put a gun to her head and made her get married. Nobody forced her to keep me. She made her choices. Now if only she'd face up to the consequences, maybe it would be possible for her to be happy for once in her life. However, she's the type of person who's only happy if she's miserable. If I take away something to complain about, she'd just complain about that for the rest of my life. Oh, goody. But in case any of you wondered why I have a crappy relationship with my mother, this is a huge part of that.