I want to believe I am the best thing since sliced bread.
I want to believe every heart felt word or encouragement from my partner’s mouth.
I want to believe I am the best mum for my daughter.
I want to believe what my daughter so freely shows, that I am her idol.
I want to believe I am the mum that she sees.
But I don’t believe it. I know me better than that and I believe I am toxic to my child.
Isn’t that fucked up? Continue reading “I want to believe”