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| One of the four principles in attracting positive energy is to practice forgiveness. This column is a platform for purging the negative emotions we hold for those who have wronged us. Take back your power, forgive, and move on to a better life and the best you! |
| Evil Stepmother By M.D., NY |
I WAS PETRIFIED when I married my husband because he had two children from a
previous marriage and shared custody. It wasn’t the responsibility that frightened me, as
much as the fear that I wouldn’t treat them well. Not that I’m a bad person, you see I grew up
with a stepmother whose mantra was, “You’re not mine to mind.” Not only did she not mind
me, as in watch me, protect me and nurture me, but she was a classic evil stepmother! My
fear was that I might be like Frieda, too. Fortunately, I was not. I guess my stepmother’s
cruelties actually taught me how to be a kind and loving stepparent. Do I wish to thank her?
NO
It is Frieda I want to rant about. I know it is an awful thing, but I have hated this woman since I
was six years old and she burnt my hand on the stove for the first time. You see, I was
making too much noise playing with the refrigerator magnets and Frieda couldn’t hear her
soap opera in the den.
My dad married Frieda within a year of my mother’s death. I was six. I wish I could say that
my father made sure that his new bride was good to his only child, but I can’t. Whatever lies
Frieda made up about my burns, bumps and bruises, he believed. Now that I’m older I
realize he was bullied by Frieda himself. No, I’m not justifying my father’s lack of protection. I
recognize his weaknesses, too. That’s a rant for another day.
Things got harder for me when Frieda had a miscarriage and the doctors told her that she
wouldn’t be able to have children. I was blamed for that. Foolish woman, didn’t she realize I
wanted another child in the house just to get her attention off of me!
Frieda’s cruelties reached new heights. I wish I had had the hotlines, concerned teachers
and legally obligated doctors that children have available to them today. Frieda would have
died in jail, instead of in the comfort of my father’s house. But, no her end wasn’t too
comfortable, really. You know, I’m a big believer in Karma. It’s interesting how the cancer
consumed her body in all the areas she had scarred mine. I openly smiled at her funeral
when I heard the creaking machine lowering her cancer ridden corpse into the ground. It
was a good day.
Frieda’s been gone for about two years and I’ve just begun therapy. I’ve never broached the
thought of forgiving her, but it does make sense. I’m still giving Frieda control over me by
hating her. My hate is just creating a negative environment for me and she wins once again.
This will take some time, but I do get it. I’m going to work on forgiving the evil stepmother.
previous marriage and shared custody. It wasn’t the responsibility that frightened me, as
much as the fear that I wouldn’t treat them well. Not that I’m a bad person, you see I grew up
with a stepmother whose mantra was, “You’re not mine to mind.” Not only did she not mind
me, as in watch me, protect me and nurture me, but she was a classic evil stepmother! My
fear was that I might be like Frieda, too. Fortunately, I was not. I guess my stepmother’s
cruelties actually taught me how to be a kind and loving stepparent. Do I wish to thank her?
NO
It is Frieda I want to rant about. I know it is an awful thing, but I have hated this woman since I
was six years old and she burnt my hand on the stove for the first time. You see, I was
making too much noise playing with the refrigerator magnets and Frieda couldn’t hear her
soap opera in the den.
My dad married Frieda within a year of my mother’s death. I was six. I wish I could say that
my father made sure that his new bride was good to his only child, but I can’t. Whatever lies
Frieda made up about my burns, bumps and bruises, he believed. Now that I’m older I
realize he was bullied by Frieda himself. No, I’m not justifying my father’s lack of protection. I
recognize his weaknesses, too. That’s a rant for another day.
Things got harder for me when Frieda had a miscarriage and the doctors told her that she
wouldn’t be able to have children. I was blamed for that. Foolish woman, didn’t she realize I
wanted another child in the house just to get her attention off of me!
Frieda’s cruelties reached new heights. I wish I had had the hotlines, concerned teachers
and legally obligated doctors that children have available to them today. Frieda would have
died in jail, instead of in the comfort of my father’s house. But, no her end wasn’t too
comfortable, really. You know, I’m a big believer in Karma. It’s interesting how the cancer
consumed her body in all the areas she had scarred mine. I openly smiled at her funeral
when I heard the creaking machine lowering her cancer ridden corpse into the ground. It
was a good day.
Frieda’s been gone for about two years and I’ve just begun therapy. I’ve never broached the
thought of forgiving her, but it does make sense. I’m still giving Frieda control over me by
hating her. My hate is just creating a negative environment for me and she wins once again.
This will take some time, but I do get it. I’m going to work on forgiving the evil stepmother.
