Music That Hits Too Hard
This song hits me harder than it maybe should. But when I hear it I can’t help but replace the lyrics
“I need a man who loves me like my father loves my mom” to
“I need a man who loves me like no one ever loved my mom,” and it hits me hard every time.
The guilt of abandoning her washes over me and I’m reminded of how horrible a daughter I am. Dead to her...zombified...But despite my death I still wonder about her. Where she is, what she’s doing, how she’s surviving. Thinking about her life and how hard I know it was for her, to be a mom and do it all alone. Make a living, make a home. I know it was as hard as it could be, but I also have to remind myself that it doesn’t excuse the bad, just makes it where I understand the why, but the hurt remains and the guilt makes me constantly question myself and choices. I have to remind myself about all the chances I have given her. How many times I went “no contact” for months, even a year at one point, always ending with me returning, her making promises of being changed...but...inevitably...let down. Back to hurling attacks, cna causing chaos, and the judgement she casts on herself projected onto me...that’s why it has been over 3 years not since we last saw one another...since I died.
I know that my mother did not have a life that was kind to her. That all the people who were supposed to love, protect, and care for her failed at that...but same...and yet I don’t do as she did. At some point, you have to get over the terrible things that happened to you and stop using it as an excuse for bad and harmful behavior.
But my heart does ache for her...she deserved a love like in this song. She deserved a kind and understanding man who saw the good in her and helped her battle her demons to bring it out. Someone who saw the life that was in her and the love she had to give to someone.
My mom is a lot like Beatrice from BoJack Horseman, and I wish I had been enough, done enough for motherhood to have been enough for her.
I just wish I cold have been the help she needed, instead of being another thing to cause her damage, instead of being a cause of her ruin. #music #narcissiticrelationship #healingjourney #familytrauma
Music has a remarkable way of touching us in deeply personal ways. For me, this song’s lyric, "I need a man who loves me like no one ever loved my mom," resonates beyond the melody — it reflects a yearning for the kind of unconditional love that was missing in my family dynamic. The guilt I feel as a daughter who has been emotionally distant is overwhelming; it's like a constant internal conflict between understanding my mother's pain and grappling with my own hurt. Growing up, witnessing my mother’s struggles—much like the character Beatrice from BoJack Horseman—revealed the profound impact of unresolved trauma and neglect. She bore the weight of abandonment and hardship alone, juggling motherhood and survival in a world that failed to nurture her. This complicated my feelings: a mixture of empathy, sadness, and frustration. While it's essential to acknowledge the trauma that shaped her, I also learned that trauma cannot justify harmful behaviors that damage relationships. This realization prompted me to establish boundaries, including prolonged periods of no contact, to protect my own mental well-being. The cycle of promises and disappointments from my mother was emotionally exhausting. Every broken promise reopened old wounds and reinforced a sense of loss, but it also taught me resilience and the importance of self-care. I’ve come to understand that healing is not linear—it’s a messy journey filled with guilt, hope, anger, and moments of peace. One thing this reflection has highlighted is the power of music to unlock memories and emotions, offering a channel for processing complex feelings. Lyrics become mirrors where we see our own stories reflected, sometimes prompting new perspectives or helping us articulate pain we couldn’t express before. For others grappling with family trauma or difficult parental relationships, know that it’s okay to grieve the mother you wished for while accepting the reality you lived. Healing may mean setting boundaries, seeking support, or simply acknowledging that you are not alone in feeling this mix of love and pain. The journey toward understanding and forgiveness—for yourself and your parents—takes time, but it can eventually lead to peace and growth. Music can be a companion through this process, a reminder that even when love feels missing or broken, expression and connection remain possible. Staying open to that can help transform the hurt into something meaningful and ultimately healing.
