My annual correspondence arrives.
"Have a birthday doing what is important to you.
I treasure the memories of your years with our family.
You were a great help and I was proud of all you accomplished.
I am your mother always and my love is forever.
Hugs
Mom"
She pops in every year - a ghost from my past proclaiming her title and love.
Each year it is about how I affected her life, and never about how she impacted mine.
I don’t even know where to begin to begin to process this.
There is always a little girl inside of me that is wanting to be seen.
She holds treasured memories - of the years that wounded me.
Reading her words without knowing the full story, you would think I left a loving mother behind.
This is what disturbs and unsettles me and confounds my mind. Our drastically different perceptions of our relationship.
Surviving my childhood created a woman who was brainwashed and lived in denial. A woman who was unable to see her own children and their needs. A woman who sought approval and was a people pleaser. One who went against the feelings in her body and chose to be a great help in an abusive family.
A woman who had no idea what love was, how to love - even herself.
The years she treasured - were the same amount of years I lived codependent.
Years I lived in a cult-like religion - without a voice or a choice of my own body, mind and soul - she treasures years that I see were void of me.
The past 18 years of our separation have been to undo the damage - of all those years.
It cost me dearly to be in her family.
And, it cost me dearly to leave.
However my journey has not been for naught.
My children and grandchildren really will have years they will treasure in homes of love.
They have parents to feel proud of - instead of shame.
I love that their hearts can be bursting with love.
It is my hope of all hopes they won't ever have to live the shame of being raised with abuse.
My heart weeps that they will not have to leave their families - and live an awkward life of estrangement.
They won't have to feel the empty spot where parental love should live.
They will instead enjoy years of sibling friendship and memories of real treasures.
Not memories tainted by abuse and toxic dysfunction.
They will know love, real love, forever love by the actions of family who puts a child's welfare first. A treasured love from parents - that is so unfamiliar to me.
A mother's and father's love protects a child; always and forever.
She speaks of my help and accomplishments in the years I was with her family. She speaks nothing of my years after leaving.
She was proud of me then.
She actually loves a version of me that is no longer alive.
Who I am today - is not someone she knows, loves, or even acknowledges.
She is a mother to the girl in her mind.
For that girl - she is her mother always and her love is forever.
But for this me, this girl. The daughter who walked away - I am invisible to her.
She is incapable of seeing me and the reasons I walked away.
What matters most is - I see Me.
The older I get, the more I realize I am one of the lucky ones.
I was able to see.
You cannot change what you don't acknowledge.
I am so happy I don't have her legacy - I have my own.
I am a mother who sees her child.
