Mother, Did You Know?

So here we are... You have asked what my story is, what my truth is. You ask this as if you have no clue. Well, I guess you wouldn't because you never took the time to ask or listen before. Well, I suppose I'll oblige...

Mother, did you know that from a very early age I knew that, to please you, I needed to be you?

Being myself was not good enough, you see. I wasn't smart enough, pretty enough, and I certainly didn't know how to do my chores properly. Everything I did, I did under a microscope.

Mother, did you know it's not very fun to be on display, or under a microscope, for all to judge?

Mother, did you know that when my sisters came, I was so happy because I thought maybe, just maybe Mikayla and then Adeline would take the focus off me?

What happened was not exactly as I'd hoped... more pressure was put on me so I could be the perfect sister and example to them.

Mother, did you know that a child is not meant to raise her younger siblings?

Almost every day when I came home from school, my homework did not come first; you did. Your migraines did, rather, and you had to go lie down while I took care of my sisters, and I waited on my stepdad to get home. Then and only then would you rise to help me with my homework and care for my sisters.

Mother, did you know that I already know you're going to disagree with me on all this?

You're going to say it didn't happen; that I'm remembering things wrong; it wasn't that often, etc. Do you know how I know this? Because we've had this conversation before...in fact, several times.

Mother, did you know that my truth that you recall nothing about has been told countless times and in countless ways throughout the years?

Unfortunately, the only story you ever heard was yours.

Mother, did you know that I felt worthless, stupid, and unloved?

I could tell you loved my sisters more, and I wasn't the only one who could see it. I also knew that every time I cleaned the house, no matter how hard I tried, it would never be good enough.

Mother, did you know that a child can tell there is a difference in the depth of love she holds for one child versus the other by her actions, the look in her eyes, and the way she interacts and holds them versus the other child or children?

It's amazing really. A chemical thing, but I knew...I could feel it. I was the outsider. The outsider always trying to fit in and prove I wasn't the odd-shaped puzzle piece in the family, but I was, and I am, and I don't care anymore.

Mother, did you know that Jay didn't fill my head with lies?

He filled my head with hopes, dreams, courage, and strength. I said, "I can't," or "I'll try, but I'm not good at this," and Jay said, "Can't, there is no can't. Try, there is no try. Do or do not." Because of him, Mia, and Alisha, I decided to stay. That's right...I thought about suicide. A lot. They gave me a reason to stay.

Mother, did you know that the pain didn't just stop with my childhood, and that's why it still hurts today?

I've been rejected, looked over, passed by, or treated as if I wasn't good enough or smart enough so many times I lost count. I'd reach out wanting my mom, but it started to seem like you were only there when it was convenient for you or if it made you look good.

Mother, did you know I'm not the only one that's been affected by your selfishness?

You wonder why I cling to grandma, and my kids do as well? Because she's there. She's steady and dependable and our rock when we need her. The very fact that you try to say that these people that stepped up and helped me and my children when I needed it the most, and you, because you were so young when you had me, I know you needed grandma, but you're going to try and say that Jay put lies in my head and grandma tried to take your place?

Mother, did you know that a jealous heart will rot and turn black?

I'm guilty of things too. I'm bitter and angry because all these years, all I've ever wanted was you to be the mother I needed, and at some point I had to start accepting the fact that you could never be that for me.

Mother, there are so many instances I could name, but what good would that do? You wouldn't believe it, most likely. You'd tell me my memory is wrong or give an excuse. If you can't accept the way I feel, then yes, we can have polite conversation, but we are done trying to skirt around the truth. The mother and daughter relationship doors are closed. You don't get to decide this. I'm a grown woman now, and this decision is mine to make for my mental health and my daughter's. You should know that I do this because I need to heal. I don't want to hate you, and I do right now. I'm not saying you did everything wrong, but you have hurt me. Please just respect me enough to let me heal.