Dear Ma

Dear Ma,

I have been trying to write you this letter for years now but never could finish it because it would remind me of the pain and disappointment I felt as a child. What's impressive is that it took Vocal Media to give me the push I needed or the motivation to get it done. Vocal Media is a platform for writers like myself from worldwide to share their stories and poems. I joined with hopes of becoming a well-known writer.

It hurts because this specific competition was writing a letter to your mother, but the theme was for Mother's Day. I find it heartbreaking that I didn't even call you to wish you a Happy Mother's Day. Believe me when I say it wasn't on purpose because I did think about you as the day came, but thoughts that came to mind didn't motivate me to call naturally on that day or after. If we were both honest, we never had a mother/daughter relaationship; it was more like you were just my cargiver because you had to be.

I sit sometimes trying to remember great memories with you. The only thing that comes to mind is when we were little, and Michelle and I would get to go to your job and meet your co-workers, and I would get to sit at your desk; I think that is when I knew I wanted to do something that allowed me to have a desk and computer. I cherished the times we worked near each other, but the tie that speaks the most volume to me was when you made me feel that you loved me when I was in the hospital because I had tried to take my own life. That was when you showed any expression of love or concern for me being your child. Even if it were a front for the doctors, and my son, I would cherish that moment.

Ma, I had to stop wondering why you didn't love me as you loved my siblings. None of us were without bad habits. None of us were perfect, but you treated me as if I were some disease that had been placed in your life. I cannot remember any comforting from you, any crucial conversations that a little girl, a teenager, a young woman, and a woman should feel safe and comfortable having with her mom. You had to make that clear starting when I was at an early age, and as I got older, it became more apparent to me. What mother turns her head to her son sexually abusing her dauther? Even if she has a different father, he is still her brother. I have asked God a thousand times why you have so much hate in your heart for me. What did I do besides be born and be a kid? What kind of mother tells her child she should have swallowed her, miscarried her, wished she was the one that got miscarried, and only loves her because she must but doesn't like her? It showed through actions, and you proved it.

I grew up having a father who loved me and a mother who wished she never had me. Can you imagine the pain that caused, the insecurity? I was damaged mentally, physically, and emotionally before reaching my two digits. One thing that I never lost was my spirit, my very being. God showed me exactly who I was and what he had meant for me.

This letter is supposed to be about me telling you something that I never told you before, and the craziest thing about this topic is I have so many things that I never told you before. I hope that I can get it all out and it would still be acceptable to the judges.

Ma,

Things I've never told you.

I know you caught my brother messing with me, and you did nothing! You did your best and kept it from dad.

Uncle Calvin used to touch me when he came over to our house to visit.

Your best friend's daughter Tiffany asked me if I wanted to smell something fresh, and I said yes, and she proceeded to put her fingers down her pants and touch her vagina and then put her fingers to my nose for me to smell.

Michelle and I used to hump the girls that lived up the street from us in our closet. We use to play house. When we house with our cousins, like your brother's son, he tried being serious.

One of your nephews put Vaseline on their stomach and rubbed his penis back and forth for me to see as if it was a normal thing to do with your cousin.

Michelle's best friend tried to get me to eat her vagina by sitting on my face and pinching my nose when she spent the night. Our bed was on the wall on the other side of you and dads. She never spent a night again after that. I remember nobody knew why we got into it.

One of your nephews tried to molest me after dad had died; that was when the mattress was on the floor in my and Michelle's room. You just had some perverted men in your family.

One of my ex-boyfriends raped me while his cousin watched. I remember how scared I was, and I kept it to myself because I knew if I told dad, he would kill him and go back to jail, and I didn't want to be the reason.

When I used to babysit the crack-head baby, one time he was crying and wouldn't stop, it was my friend that lived down the street and me; I didn't have milk for him, so my friend and I decided that I should try putting my breast in his mouth to make him quiet. I still feel bad; even though I was young, I knew it wasn't right. I wondered if I too was turning into some kind of child molester.

My brother,

One day you and dad were in the dining room. and your son caught me in the front closet right off the front door; he forced his penis in my mouth and moved it back and forth until something came out of it into my mouth and to this day I don't know if he peed in my mouth or ejaculated. I remember walking straight past you and dad, neither of you bothered to look or even pay attention to me practically running up the stairs. I held that nasty taste in my mouth until I got to the bathroom and spat it out into the sink; I must have brushed my teeth until my gums started to hurt. Dad died without knowing about most of what I am telling you.

Your son tried to smother me to death one night in my room in my bed, he got on top of me and put my pillow over my face, and if you hadn't woken up to go to the bathroom, he would have killed me. I remember I couldn't sleep the rest of the night, and I knew that I had to get out of your house before he had another chance and succeeded.

One night your son traded me with his friend across the street in exchange for his friend's cousin. I woke up with this boy on top of me. Everybody was upstairs except for me because I had stayed downstairs to watch tv.

Your oldest daughter used to let me sleep with her boyfriend's brother when I spent the night at her house, even though I was a teenager, her younger sister. I was too young; who was showing me accurate guidance? Who was paying attention?

One of your nephews allowed me to sleep with his best friend when I spent the night at his house, and again I was a teenager. Years after I was a young adult, that same friend tried to rape me in front of a little girl.

Your youngest daughter was the one that gave me your and Nik's banking information to go into your accounts. I was supposed to provide her with a cut, but that was when I moved out to get away from your son especially.

I was hurt for a long time when Tiffany's mom wouldn't let her talk to Michelle and me anymore, and she didn't take us places or do stuff with us anymore, we weren't even allowed to go to her house anymore, all behind a lie that you and dad started, and we had to keep. That woman was like a mother to me, which I didn't have. Sure, I had a mother in the home, but that isn't all about being a mother.

I lost my virginity when I was in seventh grade. I lost it downstairs in the dining room when the mattress was on the wall, the same one I was on when you ripped those white pants off me while beating me.

I was disgusted with you for having another man share a home and bed that you and my dad built together while my dad was in jail. You wanted us to treat him with respect, and he tried getting us to call him dad. That is why I wanted to be at grandma's house. I felt guilty and knew it was wrong to ask him for money even though you told me to. I knew who my father was and when he found out, he was so hurt because he was the only man that I should have asked for anything, he was my dad and I was his responsibility.

I was even more disgusted to find out my dad was sleeping with crackheads, and you seemed to be okay with that.

Do you even think of what it did to your children being young and watching you cooking up dope in the kitchen for dad to go out and sell? All your children tried selling drugs, it just wasn't for Nikki or me, but Nokki and Michelle, that was their thing.

I blamed you and Uncle Homer for my dad's death. Your brother introduced my dad to drugs and selling them with your permission. If it weren't for the two of you, he would have never done it on his own and never would have started smoking them, and he would have lived longer. It was your pressure to make him feel inadequate and useless, and we both know that is far from the truth.

My dad died, and you never even bothered to ask me how I felt, you never really never asked me about anything. You and my siblings erased dad so fast as if he were never there. You made sure to give everything my dad left to me away.

You're probably thinking to yourself, why are you just hearing all of this, and why my dad didn't know any of this.

Because even though my dad was a great father and husband, he wasn't perfect; none of us are. As much as I know that I was his favorite and undoubtedly, he loved me, he failed me at the same time. He was unable to raise me properly. You failed me ultimately. See, dad, he gave me the love that a child needs, the feeling of being safe and protected, to the point where I didn't tell him any of the above because I knew it would land him in jail. I would rather hide the pain and keep it from him so that he was home. I felt safer with him at home because I knew he would have protected me if I did tell him. Dad had gone to jail on his own; I didn't want to be the cause of him going away. It was worst when he was gone. He failed to parent me; he disciplined me but let me get away with things he should have stopped.

You made sure to give me all the discipline you could. The love was never there. When dad did punish me, I knew at the same time he loved me, and it was for my good. I always felt as if you got pleasure from causing me pain/ you didn't know the one time you beat me to bruises when I was in elementary school, and I didn't want to get dressed for the gym, and my teacher became concerned about it, and she saw the bruises, and by the look on her face, I knew they were terrible. I remember begging her not to call the people on you because you weren't supposed to be living with us. The story was you had left us with dad, and he had to take care of us by himself; that was how yall were both able to work, and dad got government assistance. So, Ma, I didn't tell dad things because I felt sager with him being home, and I didn't tell you anything because I didn't feel safe with you at all. When I tried to tell you about your son, you said I was lying. That is when I knew I would never try to tell you anything again.

Things you did know, Ma.

You knew that your son was sexually messing with me, and you allowed it when dad was in jail and after he died, you knew that your son began to abuse me physically, and you still did nothing. You went to the hospital with me when I was pregnant because of your son. I thought I was going to lose my baby. You knew that your son kicked my puppy while in his cage around the corner because someone let him out, and he peed in his room. You knew your son had severe issues, and you turned blind to it.

You practically gave your oldest daughter and son permission to beat me up to prevent me from taking my son out of your house with me because you were mad that I was leaving. You always needed to be in control when it came to me.

As a child, you never showed me love, and as I got older, you only showed me how much you truly hated me. You and dad taught me more than you know. Dad taught me how to love unconditionally and make sure the ones you say you love know it. Dad taught me to enjoy life and not take it so seriously and how to have fun. He showed me how a man is supposed to love his woman. I never heard dad call you out of your name or saw him put his hands on you. He made sure to gift you primarily every birthday, and we would go with him to pick out your things. I watched that man love you through all the crap you did to him. And you couldn't even put a headstone on his grave. Still, to this day, he doesn't have one. I will get him one myself; I know he deserves that. If you would have went first, he would have made sure you had one.

You taught me how not to treat my man, husband, or child. I watched you treat my dad like shit and talked down on him when he messed up as if he were a piece of shit, so indirectly you showed me how to be a good woman, how to speak life into my man, how to be his motivation and not his discouragement. You taught me how to love a man through his imperfection. You taught me how to love a man correctly.

Ma, you don't know that I was emotionally, physically, and mentally depressed all throughout my childhood, because of the abuse I suffered, and neither did dad. You were both too consumed with your own stuff. I could not be there entirely for my son; I was not ready for a child at seventeen years of age, not in my mental and emotional state. I was too busy looking for the love that I lacked as a child. I spent almost my entire life up until now being abused in some way by the hands of a man, and it all started when I was young at the hands of my family members who were supposed to keep me safe. The only thing a man hasn't done to me is killing me. I have been beaten in the worst unimaginable ways, but thanks to God, he kept me safe from death.

Ma, I have tried to kill myself on several occasions, but God had the last word for that, and I'm grateful he did. I burned my arms, trying to kill the pain that I was feeling. Do you know what it feels like to feel as though you are better off dead? Do you know what it feels like to cause harm to yourself because of what others did to you? I thank God every day for my life. I thank him that he saw purpose in me; he saw me as an asset to his work. Ma, there is just so much you don't know about me; it would take me forever to catch you up, but I know that will never happen because you were never really interested in me, even more after dad dies, and he knew it, and he was my protection. If we were both honest, you only knew me from birth until I was in second grade because that is when I started to notice your disinterest in me. Do you know what it feels like to grow up knowing that the mother that carried you and gave you birth did not love you, and you didn't and couldn't understand why? The only person that could ever tell me that is you, and you won't. You couldn't even acknowledge that your son sexually and physically abused me, even after he admitted it in front of you, and you never apologized to me or showed any concern. Why would I expect you to tell me why?

I remember being hurt when you went on mother and daughter gatherings or gatherings with all your children except for me. I used to hear about it after the fact from your daughters. I always felt left out and that my siblings felt how you felt about me, so they followed suit. You're not even concerned that none of your children deal with one another or the fact that I don't come around at all? That doesn't bother you? I could be dead for years and you wouldn't even know, unless someone told you.

Does it bother you that all your children are fucked up somehow or another? Let's start with your oldest, Nikki, she is fifty-five years old and has only had one real boyfriend, and that was when she was much, much younger; she never had children of her own; I don't know why because everyone likes keeping secrets. She adopted and raised our first cousin's son because, medically, she was incapable of doing it herself. It was okay with you to allow Nikki to cut him out of his parents' lives. She still lives with you; she hasn't lived for real. She is too worried about being the one to get your money when you die.

She said, "One day, I will get me and Steph's things out the house and burn this motherfucker down?" I said, "What about mommy? What are you going to do with her and her stuff?" I remember telling Derion, "If grandma's house gets caught on fire, Auntie Nikki did it." I told him why. She commented about being in control of your money and how she wish she would let someone else get it. She talked about what she would do with the house when you were gone, and how she wasn't giving Michelle or Nokki shit, she knew I wasn't included so she had no worries. She is content with caring for you until you are gone, it is sad because Nikki could be so much more; she has the smarts and potential.

Now we have your fucked up sick son! He is totally messed up, period, but he is doing good for himself and can't even keep your yard clean or cut the grass and lives across the street from you. He fixes up his house and does nothing to yours when he is one of the prominent people that destroyed it. That house stayed beautiful and clean when dad was alive. Your son does nothing for you except when he wants to show out.

Now we get to your youngest Michelle; Michell is completely fucked up. Everybody knows that I love my little sister to death, even she does. She hurt me because I looked up to Michelle, even though she was my little sister. When we were young and even into our adult life, I looked up to her because she seemed strong and had her shit together. I don't know which one is more fucked up between her and your son. Michelle was my angel, and I always protected her through school and beyond, even when I knew she was wrong; people knew if it was about her, I was coming. I let her get away with a lot; I didn't tell. You spoiled her rotten to the point she felt she could get away with anything, and she did most of the time. She fucked up your credit, well, all your children, except me, because you never helped me. She put bills in her children's names before they even got through elementary; she fucked up her husband's credit; she got shit in my name, Nikki too. Michelle, my sister, your daughter, allowed her husband to beat my child when I entrusted him into her hands. I remember I was the only one who thought that was a problem.

When I went to jail, my son was abused by adults and children, his cousins, at the instruction of her boyfriend and his friends. Nobody protected him! I left a happy, loving kid with my sister and came home to an angry little boy and it went left from there. Thanks to you and your daughters, I am still trying to rebuild the bond Derion and I had before I went to jail.

My little sister, not only stood by and allowed my son to sell drugs but sold them to him. I would have never with any of my nieces and nephews! She gave him dope for one of his birthdays, then stopped talking to him after scolding him about not buying from Henry. She even had her children selling drugs, she asked me to get in on the family business, and I thought to myself what type of shit was she on. She is encouraging her boys to sell drugs and providing the drugs. Michelle reminds me of you, but far worst she got $98,000.00 from her husband's life insurance, and he doesn't have a headstone, I guess like mother, like daughter, huh? She doesn't own anything; she spent it all on the kids and trying to be a drug dealer.

My sister is drinking her life away, and you don't see a problem? You were terrific with her drinking in the hospital after she supposedly had a heart attack. You, Nokki, Nikko, and Danielle didn't see the problem.

Teddi, your granddaughter, her daughter, could have been the first one to graduate college, but Michelle couldn't see that. She did her best to stop her daughter from being great. She couldn't see her kids accomplish something she could have but didn't. She was happy Teddi didn't go back to school. Now Teddi has a baby and she is a drunk; half of Michelle's kids are. She will not let her boys become men. She wants them all up under her as if she is their entire world, and there is nothing else for them. She is why my nieces and nephews have no respect for me and don't mess with me because your daughter feels they should have a problem with anyone she has a problem with, and if they do otherwise, she makes them feel guilty; like they choose someone else over her. She threatens to stop helping them. I have great-nieces and great-nephews that I haven't even met.

Michelle would be a whole book by herself. Ma, you don't know everything about her. That child of yours is something else, I haven't even told you half, and you probably wouldn't care because you were terrific with her cheating on her husband. You were okay with her doing a lot of things. In your eyes, Michelle could do no wrong, and she is terrible because of it, and she is the same with her children, and that is why they can't go out into the world and experience life and live for real.

Michelle is a little girl in a grown woman's body. She will never grow up.

Ma, this is part of my book about my life that I am writing to you now, but I always said some things I needed to tell you before you died, I needed you to hear me, I needed you to know how I feel.

Ma, now me. I grew up depressed with low self-esteem; I knew that the only people who truly loved me were my dad and God. I have allowed family, friends, and men to use and abuse me. I grew up searching for love. I tried killing myself, but God wouldn't allow it because he knew what he had put in me and his plan for me. I have struggled financially, emotionally, and spiritually for forty-nine years.

Not once have I felt safe and comfortable calling my mommy or sisters in these years. I have always felt alone after dad died. I used to tell Derion it was him and me against the world; it has been proven to him.

Because of my childhood, the only thing I knew was to make sure that my son knew I love him. I would tell him every day, and my actions would match. I could not teach him how to love and value himself because I didn't know how for myself. I have questioned my sex orientation throughout part of my life, my value on this earth, my worth, and what God has planned for me.

I allowed men to use and abuse me because I just wanted to be loved the way I love. I wanted to give Deriion a two-parent household because that is what I had, but I always chose the wrong men. I am not where I want and should be in life because I allowed my trauma to consume my very being, holding myself captive in my talents. I couldn't understand why, and I wanted answers. How could I love the way I do and not get the same love returned.

This contest was about writing a letter to your mom, telling her something you never told her before. You can see it is so much that I didn't tell you, and you never cared to know. When I told you I was getting married, all you said was "Congratulations" you didn't ask when or where. You helped Michelle with her wedding. You met my husband at your granddaughter's house for the first time. You probably don't even know I am divorced as of May 5th of this year. I couldn't call you or my sisters to cry or vent. I had to deal with it and everything else I have had all my life, by myself.

Ma, you missed out on me. You slept on me. I am not a victim anymore but a victor. I am a strong woman, who has been through alot, but fought through it. Where I am in life was all God and me. I have never smoked drugs, stripped, sold my body, or none of the crazy stuff. I have been homeless and broke, but God always made my way. Even with mistakes in raising, has his diploma, and he is married, has children, and is not out in the streets anymore but working and working on his rap career, using his God-given gift. Even though I was counted out by my family, God would not allow me to count myself out. I am so grateful to him because he kept me; he saved my son. He knew his plan for us, and no matter how many people, or things trying to destroy us, God wouldn't allow it. I am a strong, intelligent, and beautiful woman, I did not let myself or my son become a product of our environment. We are breaking the cycle. I pray you live to see our success because we are both on our way.

Ma. Thank you for providing my necessities, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my mouth. Thank you for being an inspiration to my educational and work ethic; I did get these two essential traits from you. We all know dad wasn't the best when it came to finances and education, although he did stay with us about the school, even if he couldn't help us.

Ma, as I said, this is just a portion of what I wanted you to know, but it is enough that if you never heard the rest, I will be okay with that. This letter included so many things that I never told you, but the most important thing I never told you was, Ma, I forgive you! I don't know what your childhood was like, so that could be the reason you are the way you are. I have learned being a parent that parents are not always right; they don't always make the best decisions when it comes to their children.

I have apologized to my son so many times and tried to give him a reason for failing him in some areas of life. I also shared my childhood with him so that he could understand more about me and where I came from, how much I have grown, and how strong his mother really is.

I beat everything placed in my life meant to destroy me. I raised m son with love; that is where he gets his loving, soft side. I always kept a roof over his head; we never stayed in the projects, kept food in his mouth and clothes on his back. He always had his room. I struggled, but I was able to provide him with love and his necessities. I had to apologize to him for choosing the wrong men and allowing him to witness the abuse when he shouldn't have had to and was too young to help me. I had to think about what all those years of seeing me abused did to him. I can say he never has and will never be an abuser.

It doesn't hurt to be adult enough as a parent to admit when you wronged your child. It will not kill you to apologize. Ma, I know I will never hear it from you because of who you are, so I have forgiven you without an apology.

Ma, I forgive you!!!!!!

Love you daughter,

Gabrielle (Beautifully Unbroken)