Open Book

To put into words, mom i love you.

I am the first born child of four. I learned to depend on myself before anyone else, and to give everything I have to give to anyone who needs it. I was making bottles and changing diapers at 10 years old. I was dodging thrown glasses and dish-ware. I was receiving punishments for little mistakes and expected to be perfect. Perfect attitude for a perfect child that is a perfect little helper. I taught the youngest how to read and to write. I taught the older two how to keep secrets. I taught them how to put on perfect little faces in public and make people say how wonderful she was. I also taught them how to stay out of moms wrath, I taught them how to notice the change in the air when she was about to get angry. I would pick a fight just to make sure she wouldn't go after them. But now, mom is a better person and I don't know how to cope.

Mom is now nicer, more fun. She spends time with them. She gets them the newer, nicer things. She makes sure they have the support that they need. And I just can't understand. If she is capable of change, then she has always, ALWAYS, been capable of change. I just wasn't worth her time. I was not worth the effort.

Little things that used to make her raise a hand, or make her angry don't make her angry anymore. Little things that made her hurt me don't make her hurt them anymore. And I just wonder what is different? What made them deserve to get that mom? Why didn't I deserve that mom? Why didn't I get that mom? Why wasn't I worth it?

I was 13 when I was first suicidal. I had horrible friends. I had the worst self-esteem. I was angry at the world and I acted out. Instead of looking to the root of the problem, my nose was broken. 4 times in 4 years. Different instances when both of my parents decided that I needed tough love instead of interpersonal connection. I needed her there. I needed this mom that understands and asks questions. And instead, I got her.

I got the mom that was cruel, and closed off. The mom that slept until 4 pm in the afternoon. The mom that left me to entertain the other kids so she could nap. The mom that wouldn't give me the time of day because I was difficult. The mom that left me to my own devices even if I needed guidance. Figure it out. Be better, be perfect. But I won't tell you how, just how high my expectations are. Good grades even if you want to die. Don't be a disappointment.

They get this amazing mother. The mother that gives them the time of day. The mother that listens and gives advice. The mother that has patience. The mother that calms them and holds their hand through fire. The mother that has understanding.

I am effectively grieving my childhood. The childhood I never got to have. I grew up at 10. I am not jealous of my siblings. They deserve to have the best. I am mourning the person I could've been if I had this mother as well. I want to have that. I wish I had that.

The best part, let's talk to her about it.

She says, stop throwing it in my face. She says, I've apologized already. She says, it made you a stronger person. She says, you aren't the same kid they are. She says, you could handle that but they can't. She says, you cannot hold onto this and not allow me to be who I am today. She says, you can't be angry with me because I am not that person. She says, you are hurting my feelings by telling me that you've experienced this from me and I don't want to hear it anymore. She says. She says. She says.

I am not that person.

But you were.

But to me that is who you are.

To me, you've never truly apologized. I never got told, mom had post-partum depression and that's why she left you alone. That's why she got angry so often and hurt you. That's why she did it, and that's why she is working to be better. And she is sorry, and is trying to never be that person again.

To me, I am the one you left even while you're still here. And I can't understand why I didn't deserve the change that they got. Or why I wasn't worth trying. I wasn't good enough for the love that they get. And I'm learning to live with it.

But it hurts every time I see you defend them the way you should've protected me. It hurts when you lead them to victory when I was left to pick up my own pieces. I had to dig myself out of my own holes, while you pull them out of theirs. I had to learn to accept that I was supposed to be independent.

And now, this is ruining me. When I get angry, I get violent like you did, mom. When I get upset, I hurt people. With my words and my actions. And I hate myself for it. I am terrified that I won't be able to turn it around. I don't ever want to behave like you did. I am working so hard to turn it around and be better. And sometimes, I do things before I can stop myself because I resort to that behavior. I handle confrontation like you did. I am terrified of having children and doing what you did. I am terrified of not being the best person the first time.

I love you. I can't not love you. The person you are today is admirable. But I hate the person you were. I just wanted you. I wish I was worth your effort. I wish you loved me like you love them. They deserve that, but I wish I did too.

Sincerely,
The daughter that you destroyed in the process of getting to where you are now.