This Is Why I Dislike My Own Daughter
When she was born, everything changed between me and my husband. It used to be us—just the two of us—but now I had to share him with her. He loved her deeply, and he loved me too, but their bond sometimes made me feel left out. I couldn’t help but feel like he loved her more than he loved me.
She was my daughter, yet I grew jealous of her. My father had never loved me like that. He never played with me the way my husband played with her. My father never called me beautiful or his sweetheart. Maybe he didn’t say those things because I wasn’t those things.
But my husband saw something in me. He told me I was beautiful. He called me his sweetheart and said all the words I had longed to hear. Then my daughter arrived, and everything shifted. His life began to revolve around her. I felt like she had stolen my man.
I was jealous of her. She received compliments my father never gave me, and when my husband said he loved her, I felt a pang of envy because I never heard those words from my own father. When she got things easily, I envied her, because I had to work so hard for everything I wanted. It didn’t feel fair when I looked at her beautiful hands and feet, untouched by hardship, while I bore the marks of my struggles.
I fought with her. I was hard on her. She had stolen my man and was living the life I had always dreamed of.
But as I grew older, I began to see things differently. I realized why I should have been happy for her all along. She was a representation of how far I had come. She symbolized my victory over my struggles and my ability to break the cycle.
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She represented the fact that I hadn’t married a man like my father. She was proof of the soft life I had worked so hard to create for her—a life where she didn’t have to suffer as I did.
I’m glad I struggled so she doesn’t have to. I learned this lesson late, but fortunately, Margaret forgave me. She’s my best friend now. My daughter is no longer my rival or enemy; she’s my daughter. And I’m proud she had it better than I did.
