I have always tried to teach my children from example. It has taken years, but I think my youngest is finally learning one important lesson that I have tried to teach her from the day she moved in.
If you are true to yourself, then everyone else does not matter.
I try to show my children how to have proper manners and respect others. I volunteer because I want to, not because I need someone to pat me on the back. I did not want to be a mother, so that I could be celebrated. I make the right choices no matter how hard they may be.
My oldest may have caused me to live with a panic disorder. I may now have PTSD from being her mom. She may have physically and emotionally abused everyone in my house. After that and everything else she has done, I am still her mom. If she came back tomorrow and said “I need your help”. If she wanted to get her life back on track. I would do it in a heartbeat. I know who to contact and how to get the ball rolling to help her become an independent adult.
I am their mother. I understand them in a way they do not even understand themselves. I see them as a whole person: the good and the bad. I forgive their youth and insecurities. I am the keeper of all their pain.
They have failed. I have been there.
They have succeeded. I have been there.
They raged at the unfairness of the world. I was there.
They broke apart at the overwhelming loss they experienced. I was there.
The world turned its back on them. I fought for them.
The sources of their trauma continue to haunt them. I fight for them.
So if my oldest tries to say horrible things about me to my youngest. She gets angry and upset and rages about her sister. I calmly look at her and tell her:
It doesn’t matter, I know who I am.
Mother of Trauma 
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