A Torn Esteem

The harsh words stung bitterly and I can still hear them, replaying over and over again in my head. Words of discouragement. The tone in her voice was pure hatred. Now when I walk through the hallways at school, I walk with my head down, ashamed. Ashamed and afraid people will not accept me for the genuine person I am. My self-esteem was bruised, my ego crushed. Criticism can be beneficial to a certain extent, but a young girl should never have to be put down, verbally abused… pushed as so close to depression, that I was at that moment. Especially not by the one person that she so admiringly looks up to, her mother.
My mother and I have a perplexing, strange, and complex relationship. Sometimes we giggle like children and tell funny jokes, but other times it’s different. We fight endlessly, being almost verbally vicious. When situations at home are peaceful and are going smoothly, mom always finds something to make a complaint about. The house is never full at rest, be...