Burning Bridges

Dear Ma,

Where do I start- oh yeah- you’re the reason why I secretly started therapy last year. Remember my anger issues? Of course you do. Remember when you beat me into suppressing my feelings? No? I figured you don’t, but I do. Every time I have my tantrums, you would always bring out the belt. You thought you did something. Well, you did. You taught me that my feelings don’t matter and you wonder why I gatekeep all my secrets from you. You wonder why I don’t want to spend time with you. You wonder why you’re the last to know about everything going on in my life. You always overreact to everything. Remember when my sister first brought a guy home? You don’t? That’s so funny, because I remembered you embarrassed her by telling him that he could do way better than your own daughter! Really ma’am? Congratulations! We’ve already decided to put you in a nursing home.

Oh and how about that one time during my Individual Graduation Plan meeting my freshman year of high school. What did you say: “You want to be an actress, Linda? You can’t sing. You can’t dance. You’re not JLo. You need to take these health science classes.” By the way, ma, I hate the medical field. The reason why you forced health science on me is because you thought that my sister was going to become a doctor, but jokes on you. She’s a freaking police officer, so all this shaming for what?

Speaking of shaming, remember great grandma’s funeral? Of course you do! Remember when people asked you where your oldest daughter was at and you said, “She’s back at home studying for her final exams. She’s going to be a psychologist. She’s so smart, but she’s lazy and doesn’t know how to clean much less cook” and everyone in that group looked at you all kinds of stupid because it was YOU that raised us?! Of course you don’t!

As if things haven’t gotten worse. I remember you got renal failure in 2017 and I thought that karma finally caught up with you for being a trashy parent. Then a former coworker of mine told me that I should be grateful to still have a mom and she told me about how she lost hers when she was thirteen. I’m not going to lie, I felt like shit. I gave you the benefit of a doubt and hoped that you’ll become a better person, but you mistook God’s plan for a gimmick. You’ve became more bitter than ever. You screamed when you don’t get what you want, throw things just because you’re upset, and just stressing all of us out. You set the mood for the whole household and we just have to deal with it. We were all miserable and you wonder why your husband- my dad- cheated on you. Shit I’d cheat on you too if you made me feel like less of a man with the constant bitching.

We’d all thought that you’ll appreciate life more when you got a new kidney, but nope you got even worse. It’s the bitterness for me. It’s the pettiness for me. Its the overbearing for me. I’m in my twenties and you are still on my back asking where I am and who I’m with. Is it me being an adult not enough for you to trust me? Do you not trust my judgment? What have I done to make you lose trust in me? Wait, it’s not that you don’t trust me. It’s the fact that I’m all you have left, because you burned every single bridge. Well I don’t know if you noticed, but this bridge is about to go up in flames in a second. Why? Didn’t you know that you’re suffocating me?

Of course you don’t. I bet it doesn’t bother you that you’re always the last to know about everything going on in my life. Aren’t you even a bit ashamed that you and I don’t have a mother - daughter bond you’ve always dreamed about? You’re so clueless and I bet you’re okay with that. It’s pathetic actually that a mother doesn’t know a single thing about her child. Yeah, I said it. You don’t know me like you thought you do.

You don’t know that I gave up theatre and acting because of you. You don’t know that you’re the cause of my stress and anxiety. You don’t know that I’m currently seeking therapy because of you. You don’t know that the real reason why I want a dog is so that I can come home to hugs and kisses instead of demands on top of demands. You don’t even know that my boyfriend and I broke up last month, because I know that you’ll rub your “motherly instinct” in my face saying that you we’re always right about him. You don’t even know that the reason why I went to Columbia for a few days was to get away from you. I wanted some kind of independence to prove to you that I don’t need you to hold my hand or give me unsolicited advice. Don’t you trust your parenting skills? Have you stopped and ask yourself “Have I done enough to prepare her for the real world?” What are you so afraid of letting me go? Why can’t you just let me go?

These apartment walls are closing in on me. It’s no longer a home, but more of a prison cell. You call my name constantly to come get you this and throw away that. You make me call your doctors knowing damn well I got phone anxiety. I have to drive you to every single appointments. The doctors said that your health is improving, yet you don’t want to go back to work. I can’t support ourselves with one paycheck, but you don’t care. No, you don’t know, because I told you that I’ve got a second job when really I just took naps in my car after work.

Because of you, I envied people my age who already got their shit together living on their own, going on expensive trips, starting a family. Meanwhile, I’m your primary caretaker wishing that this nightmare would end. Because of you, I might never want to have children. Makes sense, doesn’t it? I don’t have patience for you what makes you think I have patience for a child? You took all of my patience and now I’m fed up with your shit.

Yet again, you don’t know how I feel. You wonder why I don’t communicate with you. Remember when you taught me that my feelings don’t matter? You don’t care how I feel. Here’s the thing though: I’m nothing like you. I care about how you feel. That’s why I don’t tell you what’s on my mind, because I know how you’ll react. I’ll continue to let you believe that I’m a caring daughter in a happy loving relationship with my boyfriend, working two jobs. It’s what they all say: ignorance is bliss.

Your “loving” daughter,

the one you haven’t burnt the bridge with…yet.