She Whose Name We Don’t Speak Of

I have doubted my worth and capability too many times in your company

I have been in pain on my knees by the hand of you

I have expressed grief at your feet begging for kindness

I have extended grace to you in unexplainable ways

I have swallowed your shame and fear and believed I needed it

Still offering you my cup

I call you mother

A force of destruction and a teacher that uses poison to show me the depth of my empathy

She has disdain and disgust when I am in pain

I have been ignored and shunned by her

She pulls strings and her help comes with a high price

She purposefully excludes me

I am left alone often and never invited to be with other people when she is involved

I am invisible to her

And when I am visible I am a burden

My needs are not valid

My tears are not valid; there is no room for me when she is present

When I am sad I am sent away to be alone

When I am angry for how she has treated me I am told I am the problem

She shares misinformation

Creating riffs between others

She isolates

I have never been lonelier than when I have to share space with her

The only thing she truly wishes on me is loneliness

She looks at my body and turns her lip up

She talks about how complete strangers are beautiful while pointing out my flaws

I bought a new car and instead of “congratulations” I got “they probably took advantage of you”

Instead of “do you need a ride?” I got “don’t even think about asking me for help”

She creates realities of rejection, pain, and loss for me

I fail before I even try in her eyes

I am silent

She yells

I tell her I am angry and she has hurt me

She says I am making it up

I tell her I don’t feel cared about and receive “how dare you”

or “you are so ungrateful”

or

my favorite,

“well I don’t know what to tell you”

Doing all this and caring about your child can’t possibly exist in the same space

To her I am an obligation

Being kept alive and told to keep my mouth shut so she could uphold the image of “good mother”

Survival care

To her I needed to earn being alive;

You must be deserving of this house over your head

You must be deserving of this food

You must be worthy of these clothes

Her actions said “I will give you what you need, but, just remember, you don’t deserve it”

I was only loved when I was quiet and fit the mold

And I was not made for molds

I was not loved for me

Today I release myself of all the pain she has sent to me

I release the grief that binds

Every time she has made me feel unwanted

Every moment of unworthiness I survived

Every night I cried myself to sleep wishing someone would save me

Every back hand across my face for not saying the right thing

All the times I looked in the mirror and wished I looked all the ways she praised other girls for looking

Every time she bought me clothes too small or too big for my body

All the times she said I was making a scene for crying

Every moment I was in pain and she accused me of seeking attention

I release

I release

I release

I no longer choose to view myself through your eyes

Your lens is cracked and flawed

Fix it

And so it is

And so it is

And so it is