Dearest Mother,...

Dearest Mother,

I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that you want me and I want you... the truth is that I needed you yes but I do not want you. There was a time, yes there was a time where I both wanted and needed you but then I grew. I grew to learn that I could love myself and I learned that without you. Let's be honest shall we? For once, can you give me this one small token? You never wanted me. Not really. You gave me life and for that, I am grateful. It's been a wild ride but one I'm glad I was given the opportunity to have but I was the bastard child. I am the bastard child; conceived in the dark of night when you should've been in your bedroom sleeping like a good teenage girl but you weren't and that I've always felt was my fault. I'm not sure how but I wasn't meant to be conceived by you at just 15 years of age and born when you had just turned 16 a few short months ago. I stole your childhood. I'm told when I was a baby/toddler we were besties but I think you had hopes that I could be your mini me. When my father and you divorced when I was just 3, you started to realize I was more like my daddy. I favored him in looks too with my brown hair and brown eyes versus your blond hair and hazel eyes that was nothing like you. In school, I struggled and couldn't make the straight A's you had made in school. I made B's, C's and an occasional A. You had me stay up until midnight some nights because you said I was staying up until I got it right. I'm sorry I was not good enough and didn't understand. Finally, when I was 11 you and my step father had my little sister Mikayla and I thought maybe the pressure would be off me and I wouldn't have to be so perfect. You'd be busy with her. I was wrong. I just got another job added to my list; I then had to be the perfect older sister/substitute mother. I changed diapers, fed her bottles, bathed her every night, I knew she had acid reflux and could projectile vomit across a room if not burped properly or given the bottle properly and sometimes even still, I dressed her and as she grew I fed her supper and played with her. You had headaches/migraines quite frequently so often times I'd get home from school and immediately be handed Mikayla so you could go lay down. If I had homework I had to try to do that while watching my little sister. I loved her so much but I did resent her. How could I not? She could do no wrong in your eyes and I...I could do nothing but wrong. When I was 13 you and my step father became pregnant again and Adeline was born. I now was responsible for two beautiful little girls. Adeline had such beautiful bouncy blond curls and she loved to laugh all the time and Mikayla had to be entertained all the time and loved to be into everything. They were a mess and they were my babies but they don't remember those years now. It's sad really. They were your showcase children and still are even all these years later. Do you know that if I run into people that know you and they find out your my mother some do not even know I am your child? They know of Mikayla and Adeline but they know nothing of me. Your dark haired cast away daughter...can you tell me why that is? No, probably not. Honesty about these things has never been your strong suit. Instead, you like to deny and hide and cover things up. It seems your version of things always differs from mine too. Why is that mother? Do you know how many years I spent crying my eyes out because I tried to please you and somehow fell short? I used to clean the house every Thursday when I was teenager because that was part of my chores and I had to clean everything from top to bottom-bathrooms, dusting, sweeping, mopping, dishes and vacuuming. Every Thursday you'd come home and you'd take your finger as you swiped it across the bookcase or the entertainment center and you'd look at your finger and say, "Not good enough. I still see dust." You'd look at the floors and the toilet and ask me things like how on earth did I think that was clean? Was I dumb? We fought constantly and it seemed more than just your average teenage daughter and mother fights or for that matter daughter/mother fights. I remember that if I knew you were angry before we got in a car that I would sit behind you as far away as I could because if we got into an argument and I said something you didn't like you would just start slapping and you didn't care what you hit. You would hit my arms, legs, sides, face...it didn't matter to you. I remember one time we were arguing and you grabbed my arm and shoved me into my closet. I thought to myself, " I wonder if that will leave a bruise? I could call DCS"... but I was scared to be separated from my little sisters. Then there was the one time that I got up the guts to say to you what I was actually feeling. We were arguing in the kitchen each facing the other in the doorway as I was headed to my room and I screamed at you those words I'd been harboring deep, deep in my heart, "I HATE YOU!" I then felt a sharp slap across my face as you screamed "Go to your room and don't you DARE EVER tell me that again!" It felt so good to get it out though that the pain from that slap was almost worth it. At least now you knew the truth. I spent so many days and nights hugging my Bible and my baby blanket crying my eyes out wishing I were dead. Wishing you had went through with that abortion all those years ago...Did you know that when I was 12 or 13 (I can't remember the exact age) I tried to kill myself? I was doing the dishes and no one else was home for once. There was a butcher knife that called my name, I looked into it's reflection so inviting that it beckoned to me. I picked it up, put it to wrist, thought "If I could just hit the main vein then I could just bleed out and I'll be dead before they get back then all this pain will be over." I pressed down but couldn't bring myself to actually press hard enough to draw blood, I was too scared. Too scared to live and too scared to die. I was cursed I felt. I told no one until I met and fell in love with Jay shortly after that. Over the years, you showed where your priorities lied. The only time you wanted to be my mother or my children's grandmother was and is when it makes you look good. When you can put it on social media or take credit for being there for us in our time of crisis or need. It is for nothing but your gain. Other people in my life have had to step in where your place should've been to step up for you and then as if you have the gall to do so you get mad at those people such as grandma for simply stepping up for me and being reliable when you were not. I can't tell you how many times that woman and my daddy have heard me cry out why? Why am I not good enough for you? Don't answer that because I no longer care. I started therapy in 2020 all due to two separate incidents that had to do with you and my sisters. You turned them against me too. They never had time for me after I moved out and soon they were just your mini me's which was what you had wanted all along but couldn't get out of me. In 2020, at Mikayla's wedding I was conveniently left out of virtually everything. Adeline was asked to be a bridesmaid, the maid of honor in fact and despite the fact that there were I believe 7 bridesmaids I wasn't asked to be one or to have any part in the wedding party. Aliza, my little girl, was asked to be the flower girl but it was quite frowned on that she's quite shy and we didn't know if she would make it down the aisle. In the end, she did but started to cry because she saw grandma and you crying and she didn't understand why. There was no mention of me or pictures hardly anywhere even though there were plenty of Adeline and Mikayla. We didn't even have a clear place to sit, eventually placed sort of off to the side in a bit of a corner. There was a slideshow that did me in at the end. It showed numerous family pictures of Mikayla growing up with Adeline and you and my step dad and various family members. Guess who had 3 pictures total in the whole slideshow? Yeah...I counted. I ran to the bathroom in tears. I felt like a 3rd wheel the whole wedding. Some of Mikayla's friends ratted me out to you that I had ran to the bathroom crying because even though you were just a table or two over you didn't notice. I lied and said I was crying because I was so happy for Mikayla. I didn't want to make it about me and also I knew you wouldn't understand. Also, you asked grandma to ask me about it days later. That's another thing you do that I can't stand. You never come to me! Your daughter! You essentially tell grandma to get her "daughter" under control or find out what's wrong with me now. I know you'll say that I don't come to you either and that's because I used to but after I realized how little you care I gave up on that. I chose to stay silent. Also, after my step dad had a stroke you refused to let me step up and help you. It was you, Mikayla and Adeline going through this hardship. I was looked over, tossed aside. I tried to be there for you all even dad and it was as if I was not welcome. I tried to show my love and help make decisions and I felt like everything I said was just blocked out. No, you abandoned me a long time ago mother and the only thing I can figure I've really done is be born. Am I angry? Yes, I am. Do you know the countless times I've questioned who could love someone like me who is clearly so unlovable because her own mother doesn't love her? Tell me I'm wrong...I dare you. I will say this though I've come to be less angry than I was in the past. I'm mostly numb now and indifferent. I've come to realize that it's not my responsibility to win your love so speak. It is only my responsibility to love me and I choose to love me because for some reason God loves me and He loved me enough to allow me to be born and live here on this blessed Earth. And today, mother, that's enough for me and if you were to get sick or need me I'd be there. However, I'm not going to allow you to tear me down anymore. Those actions you used to do and still do sometimes I refuse to allow to have control over me. Those words of yours I used to hear in my head every day I hear less and less now as I've replaced them with nice things I tell myself instead. I climbed out on my own see, I did that. You gave birth to a princess of God mother.

Peace & Love,

Your Dark Haired Bastard Child