Her words created more wounds than good memories. I grew to dislike her. She made me anxious, giving me harsh words, punishment, when I needed love. STOP. SIT. Do, get punished. I don’t remember ever feeling wanted or loved by her. She wanted me to be thinner, taller, less curly hair, I was this menace in her life, a chore, a burden, a curse, a consequence of her relationship, with the sperm donor. Other mothers loved their kids, they fetched them at school, they hugged and kissed. I never connected with her on a emotional level.
I love you. I want you. I care for you. I’m sorry. I neglected you, were words I longed to hear. But she was and still is lost. I received unconditional love from my grandparents. My grandpa made me strong willed, a rebel, he imprinted into my psyche, so much that I became a aspect of him. He said : “Do what you choose, don’t listen to others, be happy.”
I have forgiven her, so much, I blessed her, but I choose to let the chains of her words die.
I am loved.
I am beautiful.
I am cared for.
I no longer seek approval because above all else.