Love is an overrated thing

Hear me out.

Love can be a good thing. But in many cases, it can also be abusive. For many years, I tried to remain a good son to a vile, abusive woman who was supposed to be my mother. She abused me, physically and mentally, telling me I was worthless as anything but her servant. She drove my sisters away, and eventually cast me out for standing up to her. And up until six years ago, I still tried to have a relationship with her. Tried to form a connection. Tried to be a loving son.

And she talked shit about me to my friends. Her last words to me were “Kiss my ass” and she sent them via text, which told me all I needed to know about what ‘love’ meant to her.

And I’m the best scenario. How many women and men- men like me- are trapped in a toxic way by someone who doesn’t really love them, who abuses them at will until they are looking for a way out?

The worst part with my mother is I used to tell her things- confessions I made in earnest because she was supposed to be my mother– things that she would probably use against me whenever she wants to, with relish. I fear her appearing in a moment of personal triumph to smack me down into the dirt.

Add to that people I don’t know who are being beaten by their significant others, being sexually abused by their relatives, being betrayed by those they call friend. All the sorrow these people feel is my sorrow. All their sorrow… in the name of ‘love’.

Love can be a good thing. It can also be a weapon of tyrants.