“cruel mothers are still mothers. they make us wars. they make us revolution. they teach us the truth. early. mothers are humans. who sometimes give birth to their pain. instead of children.
-hate. nayyirah waheed
The last time I blogged about my mother, she read it, and her feelings were hurt. I felt so bad, and then I realized, the truth hurts. My mom’s name in my phone is Mommy Dearest. If you know the movie, you know this is not a term of endearment. Rather a play on words, an ode to what could be. Our relationship hasn’t always been like this, strained ya know? At one point, during my freshman year of undergrad, my mom was slowly becoming my best friend. Daily phone calls, inside jokes, discussions about life and various things pertaining to life. It was amazing, particularly because I never thought I would have that with her. She made it very clear to me at an early age that she was my mother and NOT under any circumstance my friend. This was all I knew so I thought it was normal, I’d even snicker and roll my eyes at the girls that said “my mom is my best friend” until I got a taste of how sweet it is to be able to connect and share with the woman who gave birth to you. Just as quickly as I got it, it was snatched. Now, 4 years later, instead of talking daily about everything. we talk once in a blue moon about money. My mom does not know me. I do not know her, and as badly as I want that to change it will not. I have to accept our relationship for what it is. I have to keep myself at a distance to keep my sanity because any time I venture to get close, or it seems like she’s coming around.. it’s because she needs something, it’s never genuine. So I keep her at bay. Yet, as I write this I want to erase it all, start over, write about something different. What if she sees this too? Always trying to protect her. she’s my mother. But only in the most literal sense. She gave birth to me. Her pain. When she looks at me, She sees my dad. She sees her forfeited future, she sees the path she could’ve taken. I’m the oldest of three. I bear the burden of freedom snatcher. I am the product of a poor decision. Broken condom, slow pull out, carelessness. I am her pain incarnate.
Mommy Dearest, I love you. I always have and I always will. I pray for you. I always have and I always will. I want better for you. I always have and I always will. Mommy Dearest I hope you see that your Pain has turned into something beautiful. Your Pain will give birth to Love. Your Pain is indestructible.