The Villain

The rage in me was at its tipping point. I had only one intention - to hurt the woman standing in front of me.

"I wish I didn't have a Mum like you."

The resounding silence that followed was something I would never forget.

I resented her with a passion. She was, in my mind, crazy. The devil. All she ever did was make my life difficult.

To my teenage self, she was always the epitome of what I never wanted to be. And with my decision to be as different from her as possible came the most beautiful lessons.

She didn't know a lot of things, so I made sure I was smart. She was fully dependent on my father, so I strived to be independent. She had to always ask for money, so I made my own. She didn't have the confidence to go out alone, so I went everywhere on my own.

Soon enough, I became everything she wasn't. But I also grew from a troubled teenager to an independent woman. And that growth gave me profound insight into what life was like for my mother.

Dear Mum,

I can proudly say that I am nothing like you. You have made sure of that. But as the months and years passed by I have also realised how much you have done for me.

It can't have been easy, to follow my dad and move to a different country with two little ones. To be stuck in a marriage that didn't fulfil you. To have found a job in a foreign place, with no knowledge of English and yet showed up every day to support the family. To have to ask permission for everything you wanted to do. To be stuck in a loop of societal expectations. To be slapped by your husband in front of your children. To be so stuck in life but not have anyone to talk to. To be disrespected and hated by children you struggled to raise. To be branded as crazy when all you needed was a little help. To struggle through depression and protect your daughter from yourself.

I couldn't see it then, but I see it now.

You were the anti-hero of my story, but somehow you managed to shape me into the woman I needed to be - which was everything you were not.

You made me realise that independence was important.

You taught me what I shouldn't tolerate within my relationships. You taught what an unhappy marriage was.

You showed me that a woman with nothing to her name was powerless.

You showed me why mental health was important.

You made sure I would never be disrespected by my husband the way you were.

You ensured that I was more than capable of living my life on my own terms.

You did all that by being the villain to my story.

When I was a kid, I swore I would never grow up to be like you. I scoffed while my friends talked about how their mums were their role models. I didn't see a role model, mentor or even a friend in you. But somehow, you played the most pivotal role in my life. And for that, I am grateful.

It's been years since I told you I didn't want you as my mother. I know it hurt you. I saw the tears in your eyes. Even then, you forgave me in a heartbeat. Perhaps in your messed up world at that time, I was the only thing you had to hold onto. Perhaps that's why you held on so tightly, even when it was suffocating to me. Perhaps, you were holding on to your last shred of sanity.

I have never understood you. Even at thirty when I know you were just making the best out of what life had thrown at you, I look at you and wonder what is going on in your mind. But I am sure you loved me. In your own, weird way you did love me. And I learned to forgive and even love you.

Maybe, you being my nemesis was the best thing you could do for me. Because today, I am here doing everything you once wished to do. And the person who got me here is you.

My hero in disguise.