Cutting Ties
To a mother that wasn't there,
I've been grappling with how best to share this with you, and I'll admit there's no simple way to go about it. My emotions are a mix of hurt and frustration. I've grown weary of hearing echoes of, "She wants to know what happened if you're open to talking." If you genuinely want to understand, then why not just pick up the phone and reach out? We already communicate through messenger; a message from you would suffice. Or was it that you simply weren't prepared to hear my perspective because you suspected it wouldn't align with your expectations? Well, that's a reality you'll have to face.
Tonight, sleep evades me, and I'm exhausted from carrying the weight of anger, disappointment, and pain. It feels like I'm transported back to being a helpless five-year-old, watching you walk away because your children weren't your priority. I've found myself questioning what I did so horribly wrong that you seemingly lost interest in me. But let me be clear—I am not that same vulnerable child anymore. I don't yearn for your affection, approval, or validation. I've outgrown the phase of waiting for my mother to come around.
You know why? Because I was blessed with an incredible mother, one who stepped in when you couldn't or wouldn't. She's the one who read me bedtime stories, tucked me in at night, and held me tight during my nightmares. When I was hurt, she was there to mend my wounds. She stood by me through my first heartbreak. You, on the other hand, were absent. SHE loved me in a way no one else ever will, and for that, I proudly refer to her as MY mom—a title she earned and truly deserves.
The irony is stark: Despite all of this, I still hoped you'd eventually prioritize me, love me like SHE did. But my hope was misplaced. I thought you'd changed after being with boy toy #4, but reality hit me hard. Here I am again, dealing with hurt, disappointment, and, most of all, frustration with myself for expecting more from you.
You relinquished us. You handed us over to the foster system, and that decision led to my suffering. I endured abuse, faced constant belittlement, suffered inappropriate touches, and became a punching bag. Years later, knowing parts of my story, you allowed something similar to happen to my sister. You knew what he had done to her, and yet you acted as though everything was fine, as if no alarms should be raised. You were silent, selfishly protecting your own interests. Then, you coaxed her back into that environment, fully aware of the danger she faced. Your claim of innocence doesn't hold water; what he did was unequivocally wrong. While he seeks help, you should have shielded her from that harm. Your actions—or lack thereof—contradict the role of a mother you profess to be. Nonetheless, you've lost me. I wish you well, but my life now stands independent of your influence.
Lastly, cease defaming my mother's character. Find someone else to blame or, better yet, confront the consequences of your choices head-on. Constructing a scapegoat won't absolve you. Farewell, and may your life be as you intend it to be.
