Tana Mongeau Quotes

I hated my father long before I knew there was a word for hate.

I forgive my mom for being a psycho and my dad for being a loser.

Mum's serial misbehavior over the years had driven me, despairing, to write her scolding - occasionally scalding letters.

My ex-husband didn't like my singing. He didn't like my hair. He hated my eyes. Everything. Everything he complimented me on when we first met, he just hated.

I swear, if you existed I'd divorce you.

My mother was physically and emotionally abusive. My father was an extremely cold man.

Most of me was glad when my mother died. She was a handful, but not in a cute, festive way. More in a life-threatening way, that had caused me a long time ago to give up all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother.

The real demon in my life is my father.

I could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.

I didn't have a good childhood growing up.

So many people ask, 'How could you forgive your mother for the way you were raised?' It's really not forgiveness, in my opinion. It's acceptance. She's never going to be the sort of mother who wants to take care of me.

My stepfather was fond of letting me know, quote, 'I ain't your... damn daddy.' That was something that was painful, to put it mildly.

I was so ugly my mother used to feed me with a sling shot.

It's extraordinary what children put up with. I happened to see two of my uncles put my father up against the wall of my grandmother's house and knock his teeth out, because he'd been unpleasant to my mother. The next day I went upstairs and found my father making a rather half-hearted attempt to gas himself.

Love came in wounded and frantic ways to my dismaying family.

My father was a food lover and a deadbeat dad, and maybe a connection between good food and bad dads was forged early, in the deepest folds of my subconscious, where we make so many decisions about our parents.

My family was never happy with me. I could just say that across the board.

I pretended I was living with a television family and there was no yelling at home and no one hit me.

I want to say that nobody accuses their parents of abusing them without justification to do that. I didn't just make it up. A lot of things were true and abusive and horrible things that happened to me that my father did.

My parents just neglected me, I wasn't abused or anything.

My father was overbearing. Very controlling. He was always the way he is, even before my success. He was not always a good person. He'd play mind games to make sure I knew my place. I don't see him, which is unfortunate. But I don't have any desire to see him. I vaguely know where he is, and I don't want to know.

What can I say? I deal with it. I think I have come to terms with my absolutely hateful and vile childhood. No, I have, really. But I did hate it at the time. I resented it. There were elements of it that were positively Dickensian.

Fights with my father were really quite brutal. I would not live his vision. I would not become who he wanted me to be. Everything I did was criticized. I would spend three months drawing something and show him, and he would look up from his paper and just look back down. I got no approval from him for anything I did that was creative.

The more love I craved, the more distant and abusive he grew. The role I longed to play was never written into Ryan's script: daughter.

I had a very angry father and was disconnected from my family.