My Heart: Exposed....

...this is a letter I may or may not send to the woman who gave birth to me. This has been written in my off-line journal...it's the naked truth about my life, and the reason why it hurts me so badly to think of her taking any of my children for any length of time.


There are so many things I wish I could share with you. The sadness and anger that comes with thought of our relationship, or lack thereof, is so much more than I can bear at times. What you will never be to me, especially now that I have children of my own, is something that makes me want to cut you out of my life completely. For years, you've taken a partial role in my life -- only when it suits your own needs. Never do you hear about the mundane bits of daily life, but you'll certainly never miss the bits where you'll be in the limelight as a mother or grandmother. It amazes me that someone could truly not know how to love anyone as fully as mother is to love her own children, but I'm more and more convinced that you truly do not. And this makes me want to have nothing to do with you. You have no idea what work goes into being a mother because someone else has always done it for you, and the brief time that the job was yours, you pissed it away and nearly had us taken away from you. Do you even realize this? Because of you, I had to wash my bedding before I could sleep at night, because one of your animals had either pissed or shat in it, and you hadn't bothered to clean it up. Because of you, I was embarrassed of how I smelled, and wondered if everyone else could as well, because the smell of animal waste permeated everything that came into your house. Because of you, at fifteen, I had to make the decision to never spend another night in your house unless you cleaned it up and got rid of your animals. Only for you to choose them over me, because they apparently "wanted" to be there. Do you even realize what it's like to have your own mother choose you over a damn dog or cat? Have you any idea the pain that I carry around and try to ignore every damn day of my life? Yet here I am, always concerned to try to make some sort of fucked up place for you in my life. One that you've done little to earn. And I do this simply to spare YOUR feelings.

Because of you, someone else was forced to step up to the plate as mother in my life. First, it was my grandmother, and then it was my stepmother. And because of you, my stepmother has earned that place as "mother" in my heart. And it's no one's fault but your own. When I talk about my mother, do you realize that I don't mean you? Do you know how sad that makes me?

Because you haven't changed in the 28 years of my life, I will never be staying at your house, despite the fact that you apparently bought it for us to stay there. And even if you do change, I'll likely never stay at your house, and nor will my children.

I wish I could tell you all this. But it's likely that I never will. And the only thing I have left to do is to keep going. To be the mother to my kids that I'd wished for with you, but never had. To try my hardest to make it so that my kids never feel the things about me that I do for you.