Notice for Narina
"Sometimes the deepest wounds aren't caused by the loudest words, but by the quiet messages repeated over time."
I was cleaning and organising my office today when I came across something I haven't looked at in years.
Two old pieces of paper.
Old posters that had been ripped up and put back together with sticky tape.
I kept them for a reason.
They were two of six or seven notices my ex had printed and put around the house one day while I was at work.
He'd told our three-year-old daughter they were making something special for Mum.
When I walked through the door, she couldn't wait to show me.
She was bursting with excitement.
She had absolutely no idea what the notices actually said.
At first glance, they looked like simple computer designed print outs. Simple. Innocent. Except they weren’t.
They said things like:
“NOTICE FOR NARINA – DO NOT FORGET… MAKE YOUR BED EVERY DAY AND SET A GREAT EXAMPLE FOR TESS.”
“NOTICE FOR NARINA – DO NOT FORGET… DON’T LEAVE CLOTHES LYING ALL OVER THE HOUSE… IT’S A BAD EXAMPLE FOR TESS.”
I remember standing there… smiling… praising her… telling her how wonderful they were.
Because what else could I do?
What You Don’t See at First
From the outside, it looks like a father encouraging good habits.
But that’s not what this was.
This was control.
This was shame… dressed up as parenting.
I had gone back to work when my daughter was five months old because I had to.
The mortgage. The bills. The responsibility.
He wasn’t working a traditional job.
He was running a computer repair business from home.
And I was doing everything I could to hold our life together.
So sometimes… yes…
the washing sat on a spare couch until I had a moment to fold it.
Not because I didn’t care.
But because I was exhausted.
The Message Under the Message
Those posters weren’t about the bed.
Or the laundry.
They were saying:
“You’re not good enough.”
“You’re failing as a mother.”
“Even your child can see it.”
And the most insidious part?
It used my love for my daughter against me.
Because what mother doesn’t want to be a “good example”?
I was already feeling bad for not being 'the mother' I thought I should be ... or like the 'wonder mums' I saw when I went to birthday parties.
Why I Tore Them Up
I told my daughter I was taking them down to “keep them safe.”
But I tore most of them up.
Not out of anger… well probably a little bit out of anger ...
but because I knew they were wrong.
I knew they were not true.
I did keep a couple.
And now, years later, I understand why.
What I See Now
This is what emotional abuse can look like.
Not shouting.
Not hitting.
Just small, consistent moments that chip away at your confidence.
That make you question yourself.
That make you feel like you’re never quite enough.
And because it’s subtle…
you explain it away.
You justify it.
You minimise it.
You stay.
If This Feels Familiar…
You might not have had posters like this.
But maybe you’ve had moments where:
You felt judged for not doing everything perfectly
You were made to feel like you were failing… even when you were trying your best
Your love, your effort, your exhaustion… were turned into criticism
That’s not motivation.
That’s control.
The Truth I Wish I Knew Then
We are never the problem.
We are carrying too much…
with too little support…
while being made to feel like we should be doing more.
This is why I care so much about helping women rebuild.
Because when you’ve spent years being quietly pulled apart…
you don’t just need a new plan.
You need to come back to yourself.
Remember... your freedom isn't something you find. It's something you build.
Until next time,
Narina (aka Rene) x
