She Made Me Believe I Was the Problem–Then Her Spirit Told Me the Truth [Part 1]
The First Confession That Shattered Me
For my entire life, my mean narc mother made one thing crystal clear:
she was always right
I was always wrong.
I believed I was the problem—just like my narcissistic mother wanted me to.
There was no room for doubt, no space for my perspective, and certainly no version of reality where she was the problem.
If something went wrong, it was my fault.
If I had emotions, I was yelled at that they were too much.
If I had opinions, they were wrong.
If I wanted comfort, love, or validation, I was selfish for expecting it and not putting her needs above my own.
That was the truth she drilled into me—relentlessly, systematically, and cruelly.
So when I sat down for my first channeling session with Demi, my psychic medium, and heard the first words my mother’s spirit spoke…
It knocked the wind out of me.
The first confession that shook me
Hearing my mother’s spirit for the first time.
“I’m seeing the color pink with her,” Demi, my psychic medium, said.
I stiffened.
My mother’s spirit had already visited me shortly after her death, appearing as a crisp-edged, fuchsia-colored orb, so the pink color made sense.
But nothing else about this moment did.
I braced myself.
I spent my entire life afraid of this woman.
Even at age 56, the thought of hearing her speak—even in spirit form—made my stomach churn.
And then, her voice came through to Demi.
The first words she said to me in spirit form:
“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to bring forward all that came forward.”
I froze as fear and anger began creeping in.
What the actual fuck?!?
Never meant to hurt me?
NEVER MEANT TO HURT ME?!?
How do you even process that when your narcissistic mother’s abuse was deliberate?
Was Demi channeling the right spirit?
Because the woman I knew in life had hurt me on purpose and she hurt my dad on purpose, too.
Her cruelty was calculated!
She targeted me deliberately!
I lived my entire life in survival mode because of her!
And now, her spirit lands in telling me she never meant to hurt me?
The sheer whiplash of it all made my head spin.
I knew, logically, that this was her higher self speaking—not the vindictive, manipulative woman I had known on Earth.
But that didn’t make it easier to swallow!
I sat there, rigid and disoriented, trying to reconcile these words with the person she had been.
The confession that broke me
The words I longed to hear, but never did.
Her spirit continued:
“You have always been my shining star, and I have always known that you would do great things.”
And just like that, the floor dropped out from under me.
I spent my entire life starving for my mother’s love.
I craved even the smallest sign that she was proud of me. That she saw me. That I mattered.
Instead, she tore me down.
Made me doubt my every move.
Conditioned me to believe that any success, any happiness, any good in my life would be met with punishment.
And now, here she was, telling me I had always been her shining star?!?
I can’t even right now! WTF?!?
My entire life has been dictated by self-sabotage and fear of being caught doing anything that benefited me. Because if I did, I’d pay for it.
And now, in death, she suddenly wanted me to believe that she had always believed in me?
It was too much.
My inner child’s hesitation.
My inner child—the little girl who spent her whole life desperately trying to make her mother love her—cautiously peeked her head around the proverbial corner.
Could she believe this?
Could she dare to accept it?
She always wanted her MAMA so damn bad.
Not a mother. Not a parent.
Her MAMA.
The one who was supposed to hold her, love her, and tell her she was good.
Tell her she was enough.
The MAMA who never came.
The instant wave of grief.
The grief that surged through me was instantaneous.
Five decades of tears welled in my eyes.
She never, ever spoke to me like this in life.
She never praised me.
She never told me I did a good job.
She never encouraged me.
And now?
Now she expects me to believe I was always her shining star?
I tried to pull myself together, but the hot, silent tears spilled down my cheeks.
This wasn’t just heartbreaking.
This was devastating because I finally heard and felt what I needed for so long, but my mom wasn’t here on Earth for me to…
And yet… this was only the beginning.
The lies start to unravel
What else had she lied about?
I didn’t know it yet, but this was the moment everything started to shift.
For my entire life, I believed her narrative.
I believed I was the problem.
I believed I was defective, broken, and unworthy.
But if her spirit was confessing this much, what else had she been lying about?
What else had I internalized as truth—because at the time, there was no other way to survive?
The fear that still held me back.
I wasn’t ready to face those questions just yet.
I still didn’t feel safe questioning her.
Even after her death, I still carried the deep, paralyzing fear of getting in trouble for thinking something she hadn’t approved.
So I tucked these confessions away, unable to fully process them yet.
I had no idea that it would take me nearly two years to realize that these weren’t just statements.
They were confessions.
I had no idea that what my narcissistic mother admitted next would change everything I thought I knew about her and myself.
[To be continued in Part 2.]