Dear Mama

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Mama, I wasn’t always this way. I wasn’t always so cold. I can remember being a happy child, a child who laughed, who loved every moment in this world.

I felt loved, he told me if you had to choose then I would be your favorite. So what happened then to make you loathe me and try to heed my existence?

I was only a child, you knew I would fight back. When a caged animal is pushed and probed, of course it will attack. Did this justify things? Did this quench your thirst for reason?

Why even as a child I could recognize the satisfied malice gleam in those eyes as they turned me into a volatile wreck. That’s what I became, and still am now, I’ll admit I’m an absolute mess.  But you know this, although now you’ll sugarcoat it all, because, bitch, that’s what you do best.

One of my happiest memories was Halloween, I think I loved them all. You’d take me in my little baby seat on the back of your bike through town. I still think of that bat, with its velvet wings and satiny purple gleam. I treasured that thing, but like everything else it became torn and tattered, spattered with blood and left in the corner to fend for itself.

I do know, Mama, that I loved you so, and I felt you truly loved me. So where did it go? Or did it ever exist? Maybe you always hated me.

Hate is a strong word, you told me so yourself. I still remember the sting of your slap. If that’s true, why do it now? Why hate me and then show your love for everyone else?

I may be far away and out of sight where we can’t hit and quarrel. But every day, month, that you shut me out it twists that fleshy knot deeper until my emotions wrench and spew venomous thoughts about.

Is this your new form of the crying room? Have you locked me in and thrown away the key? Now I can sit here howling and raging against the night knowing that no one will ever hear me.

You’re the devil, a beast, the thing I hate most. No child should have wrath against her mother. But, Mama, I swear, this hatred is there only because I want you to love me, I’m your daughter.

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10 thoughts on “Dear Mama

  1. Sorry may not be enough, but it is all I can say. I am sorry you have such a volatile relationship with your mother. Also, thank you for sharing a bit of yourself. :)

      • Of course. :) I’m glad sharing makes you feel better, there’s nothing worse than letting such negative emotions just stew inside. I avoid this as much as possible myself because then I just feel sick and miserable.

  2. I think this is one of the most poignant things I’ve ever read. I admire you for posting this somewhere where others will see it; that takes courage. This is phenomenal, but I am so, so sorry. You don’t deserve to have been through/ be going through such a torment. I wish you all the best. <3

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