I agree with you about these parts of ourselves that loathe and hate us are products of our mothers abuses, and it’s so f*cking unfair. For years, I stayed with abusive men because I was taught that loves hurts and belittles and shames and degrades and that, ultimately, that was the only way I was worthy of being treated. (Thanks mom :/ )…

And still sometimes, even at 50, I look in the mirror and think “how can anyone actually love me when I am so utterly disappointing in every way…”