Don’t be surprised because I can’t call you “mom.” Let’s face it, you were never a mother to me. This hurts to admit, but you were nothing but a stranger to me for as long as I could remember.
For years, I kept trying to find excuses for you. I tried justifying you for not loving me. I kept looking for reasons why you couldn’t be there when I needed you the most.
And then I grew up. And I faced the most painful truth in my life: you didn’t want me. You know what they say, “If you wanted to, you would.”
There are no hidden reasons behind it. There is no big conspiracy behind your departure. You won’t show up at my doorstep, explaining why you were away all those years. You didn’t want me, and that’s the whole story.
But guess what: for the first time in my life, I don’t care if you want me now. Because this time, I am the one who doesn’t want you. Yes, you heard it right.
The little girl who was crying herself to sleep every night is long gone. The girl who kept asking herself why she wasn’t worthy of her mother’s love is dead. You killed her. And thank you for doing so.
All of this time, I thought that I wasn’t enough. I mean, if my own mother couldn’t get herself to love me, who could? How could I expect a man to think of me as worthy if you didn’t? Most importantly, how could I love myself if the person who brought me into this world didn’t see any good in me?
If I couldn’t get you to stay by my side, how could I do anything right in this life? There was clearly something wrong with me– something that chased you away all those years ago.
Can you imagine a little girl struggling with all these thoughts? A little girl, with all of these questions, without an answer in sight?
After some time, that was all I wanted: answers. I wanted some kind of closure. I wanted you to look me straight in the eyes and tell me why you didn’t want me. Wasn’t there any part of me that could make you love me?
But as I grew older, I realized it wasn’t me– it was you all along. You’re the flawed one. And I’m not saying this because I hate you or because I want to hurt you.
The truth is that I feel sorry for you. No, I didn’t forgive you, and I don’t think I ever will. Even if I could get myself to do it, the little girl who craved you can never forgive you for not being there.
But I do pity you. Because you know what? It’s your loss. No, this is not just some empty phrase I use to comfort myself. You really did lose a lot when you decided not to be a part of my life.
You’re not here to see it, but I became an amazing woman and a magnificent human being. Look, I’ve made it! I’ve succeeded without your help. So, you’re the one who lost.
Yes, you weren’t there on my first day of school, but you didn’t have the chance to see me graduate college either. You weren’t there to help me choose the perfect outfit for my first date or to wipe away my tears after my massive heartbreak. You weren’t there to hold me in your lap and to tell me everything will be okay. But you didn’t get to see me walk down the aisle either. You weren’t there to wish me “good luck” before my first job interview. But you weren’t there to see me get that promotion I dreamt about, either. You weren’t there to teach me how to be a woman, but you won’t get to meet your grandchildren either.
The bottom line is that you’ve lost a great human being. I could have been your daughter and your best friend– if you had just given me a chance.
Don’t get me wrong– I’m not saying I am perfect. I’m sure you would have had a lot on your plate raising me. But that’s what motherhood is all about, isn’t it? After all, you chose to have me– I never asked to be born. And I definitely didn’t ask to be left like I meant nothing.
And what did I lose? Well, from this point of view, I think I’ve actually gained much more than I lost. I lost a selfish, horrible person who doesn’t care about her flesh and blood, let alone anyone else. Who needs someone like that in their life? Is there anything worse than a human being who leaves the fruit of her own womb behind? Even wild beasts don’t do that. As much as it hurts to say this, sometimes I think I’m lucky not to have had such a role model around.
In fact, I think I should thank you for walking away from me when I was little. If it weren’t for that, I would have never turned out to be the strong woman I am today.
If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have learned how to rely on myself. I wouldn’t have been so careful when it came to letting new people into my life. I wouldn’t have tried hard to succeed– just to prove to you that I could do it, without you around.
Your departure made me face my scariest demons. But it also made me realize that I am lovable, that I am worthy, and that I am good enough.
Most importantly, you showed me what kind of mother I should never become. You leaving me made me love my children even more and helped me become a better mother to them. You know, I just want to give them everything I didn’t have growing up. No, I’m not talking about money– I’m talking about more valuable things, such as attention, respect, time, effort, and, most importantly, love.
So please, don’t come crawling back into my life because you’re not welcome here. You weren’t around while I was building it from scratch, and I definitely don’t need you now.
Don’t try calling me when you get old and when guilt knocks on your door. Don’t ask for my help when you need someone to take care of you. Guess what, I was helpless once, too, and you didn’t give a damn about it.
Don’t even think of asking for my forgiveness. No matter what you do, you can’t go back in time and erase all the years of your absence and neglect. Your “sorry” doesn’t mean anything now, and it never will.
Don’t expect me to help you wash away your sins. Carry your cross the same way I have been carrying my pain for all these years.