She Starved Me When I Was Pregnant With Him

There were days when I was pregnant and still living under my mother’s roof that I wasn’t allowed to eat. She would watch me grow weaker. I was carrying my firstborn son, and she made sure I suffered for it.

She told me she hoped I’d rip from end to end giving birth to him. That I’d suffer. That I’d never forget the pain. She said it with hatred in her voice — a mother wishing agony upon her pregnant daughter. I can still hear it.

She Assaulted Me. Screamed at Me. Isolated Me.

She hit me with a phone. She screamed at me. Every single day.

My own brother, my own grandmother — people I loved — weren’t even allowed to speak to me. I lived under that roof, pregnant and afraid, silenced by the one person who was supposed to protect me.

The emotional abuse didn’t stop when I gave birth. It only got worse. She kicked me out with nowhere to go and a newborn baby in my arms.

She’s Never Been a Grandmother to Him

She has never cooked a meal for my son.

She has never babysat him.

She has never cared for him, never nurtured him, never been a safe space or a warm hug.

My mother has never loved him the way grandmothers are supposed to love their grandchildren.

What she has done is try to destroy my family. She caused division. She manipulated. She insisted I host separate parties just for her — without lifting a finger to help — because she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as my in-laws or our extended family. She only brought drama, never support.

And Now… She Wants Him to Be Her Carer

Today I got a phone call from the hospital.

My mother — the woman who never once cared for my son — has listed him, my teenage boy, as her full-time carer.

The child she wished pain upon.

The child she never fed, never held, never helped.

The child she ignored, excluded, and emotionally neglected.

And now that she is bedbound and can’t walk, toilet, or bathe herself, now she thinks she has the right to demand his care?

No. Just No.

She is not dying. She is expected to live many years in this state. And she wants him — a child she’s done nothing but hurt — to be the one to sacrifice his future, his freedom, and his well-being to take care of her.

It’s a level of selfishness and delusion that has left me in shock. I shouldn’t be surprised — but I am. Deeply.

She’s not a mother. She’s not a grandmother. She is a user. A destroyer. An architect of pain.

And I will not allow her to harm my son the way she harmed me.