This is the letter I never could write you. This is my story to you.
Lets take it back to when I was five. I remember you worked nights so I rarely saw you for when you were home you were mostly sleeping. There was this one night where you were happy and excited for once. I asked you to play with me. I so desperately wanted you to play with me. You just looked there at me without a word and walked out the door for your date with your next man.
Lets fast forward to when I was twelve and you were given an ultimatum to finish raising me or continue onward with a relationship. You choose him, without a doubt. A decision that terminated any remains of the childhood I was fit to have. A decision that forever changed the course of my life.
We can painfully skip over the day you dropped me off on the way to your new life. Or the abrupt silence that descended between us over the next decade. We can even overlook the selfish acts you and my father took that later led me to finding the courage to draw civil suit as a teenager. No we needn’t talk about the emotional damage you two caused or the insurmountable courage and strength it took a teen to come together to stand up for righteousness out of spite for morals.
We needn’t talk about how your inability to love me, to protect me, or to care for me led to becoming my own at the ripe age of twelve in every capacity. Do you ever even stop to consider the amount of courage, resilience and strength it took for a child to fight for their life like that?
Even now, after you’ve lost everything for every man you have ever vested your life for. It was them that mattered to you. It was men who you invested your time, energy and money into. I begged you to work day shifts so I could see you, but it wasn’t a consideration until a man asked you. Do you ever see that? Can you?
Lets fast forward to five years ago, when I bought you a car, just to be done. It was blood money, not for you, but for my conscience. It was my departing gift so that I didn’t have to feel guilty for no longer trying. For the only time you ever called was when you needed something. So lo and behold when I finally do cut you off I never hear from you.
When I provided you the option of the best life you could have ever had again you choose a man. I am 32 years old and know by now the cause is lost. Even after last year’s mother’s day, I swore I would never ask you again. Do you remember last year? I asked if I could take you to brunch and a movie and you asked for money instead.
But this year felt different, I felt drained from ever trying or caring and for once I didn’t think to care any more. So when it fell upon my shoulders to let our side of the family know that another one of your aunts died, it was I who had to call you and comfort you. I felt bad for not even considering you and asked to take you out for Mother’s Day. So it shouldn’t surprise me when I asked you if you wanted to have brunch, if you want to spend some time together for mother’s day, that you can’t because you have a date.
And yet every time I talk to you, you leave me in a manic state leaving me questioning the reality of my childhood. Even seeking validation from siblings at times just for my own sanity. You have diluted reality and fantasy. You justify your actions with excuses like I was a bad child, I was rebellious or I was a terror, when it couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. How would you know? You were never there. You were always too busy with these men. Instead of the lies you coat your ego with, invest in some gut wrenching truths.
You left me high and dry in every facet of every capacity. You gave me no moral, emotional or intellectual direction. You gave me nothing. But that nothing fueled an energy, a passion, a desire in me to be so much more than the life that you gave me. So much more than the life that you dared me to have. And yet, I am utterly grateful for it. Because I don’t know that I could stand the person I could have become had you actually tried to give me guidance, had you tried to love me.
So should you ever read this, which I doubt you ever would, know that I am grateful you provided me with life. Understand that I no longer care what you think of me, good or bad, I will no longer seek to hear your opinions of me. I will no longer reach for a love that you could never provide. But recognize that I wouldn’t change it if I could, none of it. For this is the person I was meant to be, and I could only become through this whirlwind of a life. Thank you for everything you did and didn’t do for me. I will always love you I just no longer need you to love me.
All my love.