I love you. I hate you. I feel sorry for you, for me, and for all we didn’t have as a mother and daughter. Sometimes I think I miss you. Other times I feel shame that I don’t miss you.
But I’m happy we are not in each other’s lives anymore. I needed to find myself. And you needed to do the same. Me in your life just brought back stuff you didn’t want to deal with. You in my life kept me from finding my confidence and truly living.
But you also did something I didn’t fully appreciate until after I moved out of state and started remembering my childhood. You left me with monsters – pedophiles, rapists, cults, drug traffickers and dealers – when you didn’t want me around. The monsters paid you and compensated you with other perks that made you happy once in a while.
But those monsters also raised me into the woman I am now. They taught me life skills and survival skills. They taught me how to protect myself and identify lies as they are told to me. Most important, they taught me how to survive anything with intelligence, patience, and resilience.
Living with you, taking care of you from childhood into adulthood taught me other important skills. Not all of them good or bad, but extremely useful in dealing with the bullies, pushy relatives, and generally mean people. If you hadn’t been so abusive and neglectful, if you hadn’t told lies that convinced others to treat me like a lying pariah for most of my life, and if you hadn’t tried to control me by destroying my sense of self, I might not have learned how to be independent and self-reliant.
So maybe I am a suspicious and skeptical person when it comes to trusting people. Maybe I keep most everyone at a distance and only let in so many people at a time. And maybe I lack confidence in socializing and communicating because I spent so much of my life quiet and silent.
But I am the woman I am today because of you. I am smart, strong, resilient, caring, empathetic, creative, confident, sometimes rebellious, assertive, respectful of others, and able to stick to my values. You taught me to fight for what I believe in and speak up even when I’m going to get in trouble. Sometimes honesty and persistence turn people away. And plain speaking can make other people uncomfortable.
All of that is okay as long as I stick to being me instead of pretending to be something or someone I’m not. In trying to make me your creation, you taught me how to preserve my sense of self even when times were darkest. In turning everyone against me, you taught me that I didn’t need other people (or their approval) to be happy and fulfilled.
So thanks for being the mom you were. I love you sometimes. I hate you other times. And I wish you can find the happiness you’ve been searching for someday.