"What did I do wrong?" I was fourteen, and you turned all your pent-up energy on me. You are desperately trying to make up for the neglect you have given me in the past, and I want to protect myself, but I have no chance. You speak your thoughtfulness, in a tone of concern, and not a single detail escapes the energy of your love. I have a hunchback, you practice gymnastics, let me practice together; you think my hair is too long, you cut it short, so ugly; then you think my teeth are crooked, so I wear braces, I Looks like a monster; you say I can't walk around in trousers anymore, so you get someone to make a skirt, never ask me what I think, I dare not say no because I'm afraid you'll be unhappy; you give me The book I brought, I couldn't read, I read and read, and then I had to discuss it with you, you gushed about it, and my mind went blank, I was terrified that you would find out. I'm stupid, but I understand one thing: I'm not going to be loved or accepted in the slightest. You were fascinated, and I became more and more afraid, more and more lost of myself. I say what you want me to say, imitate your gestures, and even when I'm alone, I dare not be myself because I hate those things that belong to me. It's scary, Mom, and I still shudder thinking about those years, it's scary. I didn't realize I hated you because I firmly believed that we loved each other and I couldn't hate you, so my hatred turned into stupid fear. I have nightmares, I bite my fingernails, I pull clumps of hair, I want to scream, but I can only make a suffocating groan. When I think I'm crazy, I'm more scared... "All this hate, why did you never talk about it?" Because you never listen, you escape reality, you're emotionally crippled. The truth is that you hate me and Helena, you are closed inside and always think about things from your own perspective. I love you, but you think I'm nasty, stupid, a failure, you hurt me all my life, and you hurt too. You attack everything that is sensitive and fragile; you kill everything that is alive. When you talk about my hatred, your hatred is no less than mine. When I was little, obedient and lovely, you bound me because you wanted my love just like you wanted the love of all other people. I'm totally at your mercy, all in the name of love, you always say you love me, Daddy and Helena, and you're good at expressing your love with your voice and gestures. People like you are a danger, and you should be locked up so as not to endanger the world.What a terrifying combination of emotion, confusion and destruction for mother and daughter. Everything is possible, and everything is under the guise of love and care. The harm suffered by the mother should be passed on to the daughter, and the failure of the mother should be compensated by the daughter. The troubles of the mother are the troubles of the daughter, just like the umbilical cord has never been cut. Mom, is that so, is the daughter's misfortune the mother's victory? Mom, is my grief your secret happiness?
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