Dear Mother
I would like to thank you for the following:
Most importantly, your 'silent treatment' - I first remember it at age 4 and every juncture in my 41 year old life since then. Thanks for not talking to me when I was a loving, kind, good and needy child. Thanks for removing your communication from me when I was a good adult daughter. Thanks for not talking to me since Christmas because of a 'perceived' slight.
You must be VERY SPECIAL to not talk to a four year old for two weeks.
Thanks for telling me that I had blighted your life, that you wish you had never had me, thanks for telling me every day of my childhood that I was evil, 'twisted' and bad.
Thanks for beating the sh*t out of me when I was nine for talking to my Dad. He'd driven past our house and I missed him.............. He stopped, we talked.
Thanks for the bamboo, the wooden coat hangers, the fists, the open palmed slaps in the face.
God, I could have dealt with the violence EASILY, but not the psychological torture.
Thanks for nullifying me, especially with your guilt trips. Thanks for attempting to set myself and my three sisters against each other - incidentally, it didn't work.
Most of all, Thanks for the illusion that we were the perfect middle-class household. Yes, we were fed, beautifully dressed, sent to piano / dancing / elocution.
Thank you so much and here is a poem I wrote for you:
You hated me the night you conceived me.
You hated me as I lay inside you longing to be born,
To see your face, your smile,
to feel your touch, your love,
and you have hated me ever since.
I loved you, in innocence, while you hated me.
You taught me about your goodness
as you carved the bad on my soul.
My presence pained your being –
my smile, my love, my joy.
You hated me because you hated him.
Time has fed and spread its’ seep.
Oozing, toxic and contagious.
It is all.
Thank you for hating me.
Outcast, outside, empty, bad and dead.
“The wheel has come full circle…”
I dug in the grave of what you’d left
and found an atom of life.
I embraced, nurtured, loved and rejoiced in it
As it grew like a sunny child.
I found my voice in the wilderness of lies,
fought it, feared it yet listened to its’
wistful little whisper.
Then love broke through that small girl with freckles,
And grew with her.