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Message: <blockquote data-quote="BusynMember" data-source="post: 659639" data-attributes="member: 1550">Oh, Copa, of course it's her value that you latched onto. I have done the same.I still have long hair <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink    ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" />And I did pick up her value of being non-materialistic, which I feel was one good thing I did pick up from her. It is so much easier to be content if you don't care if you have an old car or clothes from Walmart. I'm dead serious here. I picked that up from her and I value it.And she also didn't really care about having a lot of money and picked that up too and I'm grateful. It is much easier to happy also if you don't care if you have extra money.She taught me...it was her voice in my head...not to be "a loose girl." I have never been promiscuous and have a very strong value system, morals-wise. I probably would bore some people, make others puke. Like I've never been drunk in my life (truth) and find it revolting, like my mother did, at least when I knew her. I don't think she ever drank either.Those are three parts of me that are ingrained into me by my mother and, except for becoming less rigid about drinking, I'm actually glad she taught me to do without happily.But to this day, I don't care if you drink, but if you start drinking around me and I know it's going to be enough to make you "tipsy" I'm going to find a reason to go home. Prudeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!Her values did not bother me. Her words about how selfish I was, how lazy I was, how useless I was, how stupid I was...her mocking and taunting, her baiting a little kid and teen who had trouble controlling herself as it was...her not even trying to find out what was wrong, labeling under one name of "BAD" is why I hear negative voices about myself in my head. And her letting her stupid brother call me "the brat." That must be a really defining moment in my childhood for me to remember it...this was before we lived in a house so I was definitely under five. And my uncle wasn't a big deal in my life, but I remember that. Clear as day. And remember her chuckling, "Now, Uncle..." chuckling. She was in the other room. I was in a bedroom, not sure whose. Yes, I'm sure he didn't touch me or a nything, but the memory is very strong...Who allows anyone to call their under five year old kid "The Brat" in front of them?Today I know I am actually very generous and not a brat at all, but it took me until my 40's to even entertain the idea that I may have a solid core and some worthy traits. That I deserved to have peeps in my life who were actually good to me. That I didn't deserve to be punished.</blockquote>

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