Just when I thought I'd healed from my childhood and young adult traumas, they morphed, reappearing, determined to take me out.
When tormentors can't reach you, they target your loved ones. Using tactics from social media, subliminal messaging, manipulation, and love bombing. These perpetrators twist the narrative, painting concerned parents as toxic and unsafe, and often contribute to parental alienation and family estrangement.
I wasn't prepared for unsettled suffering to return, now using my daughter as a pawn in its cruel game.
Disguised as teachers, therapists, police, family, friends, doctors, community members, and even other mothers, they punished me for my sacred anger. They labeled me as bad and called me unsafe, all for trying to protect my child.
When my 15-year-old daughter left for the fourth time in 10 months and didn't return, an untamable, burning fury toward everyone and everything that contributed to this nightmare consumed me. During a meeting at a crisis youth shelter, Jane, a traumatized male to female transgendered house leader, spoke over me, telling my then 14-year-old how easy it is to transition. At that moment, I realized I had lost this battle. The influence and power this gave my insecure and confused teenager became unbeatable.
Every time she ran away, I responded with authority and anger. Insisting she come home immediately, I wasn't going to allow her to roam the streets as I had. In my home we follow rules, we love and respect our parents, because we certainly weren’t as bad as our parents were. We do things a certain way around here. I’m old fashioned. I restrict electronics, expect homework to be done and will not entertain negative behavior. I was naïve to believe other adults in authoritative roles would support and back me as the parent.
No, she can’t walk to the nurse’s office every single day and take an anxiety medication just because her friend takes one. I believe in getting to the root cause and trying other things before medications. Just because her friend is unstable doesn’t mean she is too. Perhaps her hurdles only occurred during in-person learning, never on long weekends, or summer breaks. Yet, it’s rather suspicious that all her friend groups have the same mental illnesses. As I’ve said all along, you are who you hang out with.
Each time my daughter left she was gone longer and gained more community support. Fictitious stories were told, spreading more lies that her parents were wrong for questioning anything and were villains for imposing rules and boundaries. These adults believe they are “protecting a trans kid”. Now that she’s 16, no longer in school, and has been gone for 10 months the police won’t even allow me, her legal guardian, to open a missing person’s report.
Every parent's pain is a unique story. I didn’t know where to turn, or how to get out of bed. After talking or writing about our story, I struggled to stay well. I cried a countless amount of tears, and then I cried some more. Tormented by nightmares that were my reality. My anger led to violent thoughts of revenge against those who came between a mother and her child. Daydreaming of burning down buildings, sending rattlesnakes, killer bees, and poison to the very people who thought it was a good idea to rip my family apart. I wished their loved ones would be taken from them, while the entire community walked past, laughing and mocking as they pleaded for help, with no one stopping to lend a hand. Despite these dark fantasies, I knew I didn't want to remain vengeful. I needed to find an alternative, and I needed it fast.
I explored mindfulness, breath work, meditation, and various healing practices. With the help of trauma-trained coaches and by attending trauma-informed workshops, I became a coach myself. If children can use gender ideology to inflict self harm and hormones for self-alteration, maybe the traumatized adults can use psychedelics to heal? Transforming my emotions and mind through careful integration in therapeutic settings will be essential.
One day, I compassionately realized I was facing a version of my 15-year-old self, minus the ideology cult part. As a teen-ager I didn’t fit in with the "girly girls" and felt unsure, clumsy, and tomboyish. Whenever someone tried to discipline me or impose rules, I rebelled and acted out. I smoked, drank, dressed goth, and self-harmed. I even ran away from home. Though our reasons differ, I see my teenage self in my daughter. The more someone tried to smother me, the further I would run.
With this information, I should know what to do, right? Wrong. My daughter is her own person, and I hadn't healed my teenage self enough to know how to help, respond, or reach her especially while others conspired against us. Our situation is the result of unresolved anger and trauma, compounded by generations of unhealed wounds within my family.
I remember my mother's finger wagging as she cursed me, saying, "One day, when you have a daughter, she'll be so much worse than you." Now, I see it differently—not as a curse, but as a gift. One day, when you have a daughter, you will learn how to truly love. You'll learn to heal yourself, and in doing so, you'll heal for your daughter, your mother, and all the women in your family—grandmothers, aunties, nieces, sisters, and granddaughters.
I don’t have all the answers, and I still can’t find my daughter. I know she has to do her own healing now. I don't want to remain unwell, wallowing in my broken heart for years. I want to be strong and ready for her when she comes home. Like many of our children, she may be broken and harmed, but my healing energy can mend much faster than rage, pain, control, and anger.
I have stepped off the battlefield and am now strategically gathering supplies and tools, preparing and preserving the essentials with a clearer mindset. I understand that some things are simply out of my control, and all I can do is manage my reactions. I am healing my mind to ensure a bright future. I am here to support other mothers in their integration processes. I am learning to find safety within myself because that is something this cult cannot take from me.
As you know from these stories, sometimes the kids mature and return. Hopefully you can get a message to her that you are always there. They don't always understand a parent's love, and believe they have irreparably damaged the relationship.Thank you for sharing your story.
Sending love, thank you for this writing. It is lo vcely and it is healing