I was a horrible mother and I knew it. I didn’t have any time to raise my little daughter, but I couldn’t even entertain the idea of giving up my career…I still remember the look of sadness on my daughter’s face as I ignored her day after day after day. I was too busy chasing an appearance so I could feel loved when real love was staring at me every day through two big hazel eyes. (From my conversion story)
Imagine a little girl growing up with such an absent mother. She watches her mother climb mountains and chase dreams, buy her everything and appear successful, but a little girl just wants to know she matters, that she is loved, and that she can make people smile. Instead of being raised, she is dropped off at daycare and propped in front of television, moved like furniture from one place to another, and given stuff to keep her quiet.
Like the stark objective truth that it is, she needs her parents just like any child does, but she’s got a broken family, and Mom’s pretty messed-up. She grows up unable to explain that intense yearning in her soul to belong, and over time that yearning creates a painful emptiness. Strangely, the pain becomes like a friend because it’s at least reliable.