What I Never Told You

Dear Mom,

Thank you for shaping me into the mom I am today.

You never concealed your past from me: the unhealthy family dynamic, a sexually abusive father, a narcissistic mother, and having to become an adult before you were supposed to. You moved me away from the rest of the family to give me a chance to grow into a kind human being. You took me away from the racist and narrow-mindedness of our family and allowed me to be exposed to people from every culture.

Despite moving across the country, your mother still followed us.

You were never a terrible daughter. I watched you through my childhood offer to help her when you could. You bent over backwards to appease her. Despite her nasty comments she had to say, you continued to be a dutiful daughter. I could never understand how someone could be so nasty for the joy of it.

For years you endured belittling, violence, and blatant disrespect. And, for years, dad and I were treated unfairly by her just out of spite. You took charge and kindly told her you were done. It was the last holiday we spent with her, and you never backed down from your decision. I saw your inner child heal, standing up to the person who hurt her instead of protected her.

You promised me from an early age, that you would never raise me the same way. You promised you would never be like your mom. And you kept that promise. I had a wonderful childhood, thanks to you and dad.

So where did this trauma come from?

It is the question I have asked myself for years. I had a blessed life with good parents and nothing notable in my past that would indicate a need to heal. And yet, this feeling would not go away.

Over the last year, I found the answer: her.

The only grandmother in my life did not love me. She did not even like me. I never received a kind word or encouragement as a child. Instead of hugs and kisses, I received back-handed comments and looks of disapproval. And when I tried to tune her out with headphones and writing, she would call me rude or wasting my time scribbling in a notebook. No matter what I did, I did not do it right. If I helped, it was not done right and created more work. If I was silent, I was being rude. If I tried to make myself smaller, she would only target me more.

Mom, what I have never told you was how happy and proud of you I am. You never treated me the way your mom treated any of us. You chose to build a good relationship with me and give me more than you had. Because of your choice, we had an untroubled home and I have fond memories of my childhood. Because of your sacrifice, I strive to continue your legacy of being better to our daughters.

I respect and am profoundly grateful for your decision to move us away from the rest of the family. If I were in your position, I would have done the same thing. But there is an emptiness from my childhood that I have had to fill as an adult. I never had family gatherings and family members I knew would be my support. Because of this, I am ensuring my daughter has that experience.

Because of you, your granddaughter will never have to understand what a toxic family member looks like. Because of her, I swell with so much love and pride when you, dad, and my in-laws engage with my daughter. In my daughter, I see a healthy child who is surrounded by adults who love, cherish, and will protect her. I often wonder if you ever look at her or me and feel joy too that it ended with you. You endured so that we could learn to heal the next generation.

You may not see it, mom, but you are the hero in our story.

I love you.