Yes, largely because I have been told over and over again by them that the only reason I exist is because they were religious, and as a Roman Catholic, she wasn't able to have an abortion- and this has been a seething point of rage and hatred for them ever since. It's part of why I've vowed to never have children. Some people are not fit to be parents, don't wish to be parents- and in my case, wound up treating their child like a demonic presence in their life, a divine punishment: a thing to beat and blame and heap the weight of 'ruining their life' upon, to scream at that they wish I had never existed.
They could have given me up, but refused to lose social status among those they knew by doing so, and I think eventually came to enjoy having a punching bag to scapegoat all of their blame onto- for their unhappy marriage, for unrealized talents, for education opportunities lost... If you have a shitty life, and an easy means to point the finger of blame at, it's easy to see why they would begrudgingly keep around their object to beat and psychologically terrorize and abuse so badly even trauma specialists have thrown up or burst into tears in horror at what I've shared in session with them.
They don't love me. They never have. They have outright expressed their hatred, their loathing. Why would I not hate them in turn? I haven't had a maternal figure since she attempted a double homicide suicide when I wasn't even a preteen yet- a literal child. What could a child do that was so bad, so wrong, to deserve that? Nothing I did, certainly- the quiet, studious, ineffably polite child, who only wanted to avoid getting hit in the face and to read in the library, where it was quiet and safe.