bronwyn

“I think of Mom. I don’t want to become her. I don’t want to live off Chewy granola bars and steamed vegetables. I don’t want to spend my life restricting and dog-earing Woman’s World fad diet pages. Mom didn’t get better. But I will.”
― Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died

“My entire life's purpose, keeping Mom alive and happy, was for nothing. All those years I spent focusing on her, all the time I spent orienting my every thought and action toward what I thought would please her most, were pointless. Because now she's gone.

I tried desperately to understand and know my mother--what made her sad, what made her happy, and on and on and on--at the expense of ever really knowing myself. Without Mom around, I don't know who I am. And I certainly don't know what to wish for.”
― Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died

“If I start to grow up, Mom won’t love me as much. She often weeps and holds me really tight and says she just wants me to stay small and young. It breaks my heart when she does this. I wish I could stop time. I wish I could stay a child. I feel guilty that I can’t. I feel guilty with every inch I grow. I feel guilty whenever we see one of my aunts or uncles and they comment on how much I’m “growing up.” I can see Mom’s eyebrow twitch whenever they say that. I can see how much it pains her. I’m determined to not grow up. I’ll do anything to stop it from happening.”
― Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died

“I feel furious with her, then immediately guilty for feeling furious. I must be a terrible person to be able to feel fury at my mother while she’s slowly dying.”
― Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died