Wednesday, November 9, 2016

A Letter To The Woman Supposed To Be My Mother.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I wanted more than anything to call you. To hear you tell me "happy birthday"

But you didn't call. 

I didn't expect you to. 

But this part, deep deep down in my heart wanted you to. 

We don't have a relationship, like normal people do. Because I chose to cut you out of my life. 

Most people ask me if it hurts, not talking to you. and it does. It's hurts like a knife in my throat. 

But let's be honest. You caused this. 

I have put myself through so much hell trying to save you. Hell trying to raise you, like I'm your mother. 

I have always been there for you. I have put my life on hold trying to rescue you. To save you from yourself. From your abusive husband. From the alcohol. 

I will always love you. But I have to love you from a far away distance. 

I have so many bad memories from my life with you. So many crazy things that a child should never have to go through. 

I could name all the shitty things you've said to me, or done to me. A list that some people would be appalled at. 

People say that you can't love someone else until you love yourself. And because of you, I've never loved myself. I've hurt myself trying to be someone worthy or your love. 

I've always thought that it's something I've done. Something I caused that made you choose alcohol or that man over me. 

The truth is, I've been carrying your burden on my shoulders. And it's too heavy for me anymore. I can't do it. I can't blame myself for your choices. Not anymore. 

I've tried convincing myself that someday you would realize that I'm worth you changing. But I can't make you change. I can't be the reason you get sober. Or leave him. I'm not the problem and I'm not perfect, and never will be. I can't be good enough for you. 

I have to be good enough for myself. 

I have to stop blaming myself. 

I have to stop carrying your burden. 

I have to move on. I have to work on myself and the life I want to have. 

For now that means I can't be around you. 

I do this thing, where I leave the door cracked open for you. For you to come back in to my life. 

But the door has been shut. Three locks on it. 

That doesn't mean that I don't love you. I always will. 

But the main thing I want to say to you is, I forgive you. For all the fucked up things you've done to me. For all the ways you've hurt me. I forgive you. 

Not for you. But for me. 

Because I have to, for me to move on with my life.