I have to be honest ladies.
I hate my mother, my foster mother.
I don't think I could say something like, "my mother taught me..." because in all sincerity I feel like I learned nothing from her. If I go into specifics about her, well let's just say, it won't look too good.
Really, honest. I just feel like she's taught me all with negativity. I learned from her mistakes, to be honest. There, it's said. My mother taught me life lessons not otherwise simple for a young gal like myself.
So you want to know why?
Here goes nothing:
When I was younger several sisters were sexually abused by a relative. In effect caused all of us to be taken away from our homes. We were sent to foster care.
Here is where my foster mother comes into play. I was 2 or 3 and 4. I don't remember much, but by golly I sure remember that I was beaten, starved, and not given water for days by my foster mother, Christina. By golly, I even remember her name despite my REAL mother's indifference and disbelief that I could remember such an old memory.
She used to make me watch old scary movies that could traumatize any child. I recall being curled up in a ball as CHUCKY played in the background of my foster room. The blue glow casting shadows against the wall that created knifes and laughing faces.
This foster mother is a despicable person.
I could never breach a child's trust the way she did mine.
I could never indebt my foster kids or real kids in cruelty as she did mine.
I could never be her.
I am so glad I was placed back into my home at 4 yrs. old.