To who made me.

Started by Bermuda, December 16, 2022, 12:36:00 PM

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Bermuda

To the person who brought me into this world and hung that over my head as they hung me by my ankles.

I don't know you anymore. It's been about 18 years now. The truth is, if by some misfortune we happened to cross paths I wouldn't honour your emotions with an explanation. It would be degrading and open myself up for rebuttals that I heard far too frequently as a child. Most poignantly, it would lack irony.

One of my earlier memories, when I was 3 years old, my cousin lived in our basement with my aunt while she was escaping an abusive relationship. I remember you and my aunt fighting regularly about my cousin's behaviour. My aunt, as sheepish as she was, staunchly opposed your use of punishment on my cousin. I remember her being quite upset about you punishing my cousin for "talking back". My aunt said that my cousin, not so much older than myself, had every right to voice her opinion. At the time, I truly believed you were right and that my cousin was very naughty for explaining herself.

See, you instilled in me the very things that you came to despise me for. As a child I was obedient, except when I was silently and stealthfully disobedient. I accepted my punishment without hesitation, believing that life isn't fair. I silently moved out of your way when I knew you were looking for someone to punish. I shrank down so that you could tower over me, I knew that you needed that.

I lived in a home where my life was in danger, but I didn't complain. I remember several years later, that same aunt came to live with us again. My cousin had already left home, and my aunt had two small children again. She was escaping another terribly violent relationship. One day my aunt walked into the family room to discover me on the floor while my brother was pinning me down and choking me. She fought my older brother off of me. I stood up and said nothing, took a deep breath and walked away. My aunt was horrified and in shock and wanted to call the police. She went to you and you dismissed the whole thing, laughed it off. You disregarded me. I made myself easy to forget. I was 15 years old, he was 17. I was never taught that this was wrong.

You spent a lot of time singling me out "teaching me a lesson", and when the day came that I was warned about my whole life, you lashed out at me. You criticised me for the very behaviours you forced onto me. You told me that I was silent and deceptive. You told me that I never talked to you and that you didn't even know me. As you clarified so frequently, you are my mother and not my friend, and I would never undermind that with conversation. It wouldn't of been met with friendliness.

So, that same day when you told me to leave and that you never wanted to see me again it shouldn't have come as a shock to you that I obeyed you without trepidation or hesitation. I did as I was told. To me it wasn't a choice, it was an order. Now, 18 years later and the single reply you have gotten to your unlawful attempts to get to me have been a cease and desist. But it's not spite. It's not hate. It's principle.

The explanation that you don't deserve is that when you told me life isn't fair, I knew inside that you made it unfair. It was a choice. You mocked my sense of justice as you stripped me of my dignity. I won't strip myself of my dignity to honour you with closure. When you mocked my emotions, humiliated me, ridiculed me and intentionally hurt me I didn't dare talk back and you will die with that burden. That is the irony.

P.S.
One thing I realise now that I hadn't back then is that it was never my duty to be who you needed me to be, ever withstanding. I owe you nothing, but you owe me 18 years.

CrackedIce

Thank you for writing this.  I've been working on my own letters-to-my-caregivers as suggested by my therapist and what I wrote to my mother is very similar to what you've put here.  I hope this helps us realize that we're not to blame for our symptoms, and hopefully alleviates some internal critic / shame (I'm definitely still working on mine).

Hope you have a wonderful weekend!

paul72

Thanks for sharing this Bermuda
Just beautifully and perfectly written... from that first line to your ps.

Bermuda

Thanks, it felt good to be sassy. I don't fight so much with my inner critic these days unless she is mirroring things I have often heard like, "But they're your family!" The truth is I have never experienced "family". December always reminds me.

Phoebes

Perfectly written Bermuda. I relate to so much of this and I feel for you, I'm angry for you and I empathize. I'm sorry you were born into a tribe that doesn't know what it means to be a tribe. Just evil. Gentle hugs if that's OK with you. :hug: