Open Letter to my Mom

Via Google

Hi, Mom.

It's me. 

I know we don't talk. I know that was my decision, but I wanna say a few things. You don't have to listen; that's ok. Really. I just... I just need to say them, and words were always the best way for me to express myself.

Growing up, you told me I was too loud, too angry, too stubborn. You said I only listened to myself. You hated my need to be right. You hated how loud my emotions were and told me that they would get me in trouble. Maybe that's not how you really felt. I hope not. But that's what you communicated to my younger self.

Parts of that are right and true. I was angry. My emotions were violent, and I didn't know what to do with them. I desperately, desperately wanted to be right. I was scared of being wrong. Being wrong meant punishment, the few things I loved taken away.

I had so many siblings, and I always felt alone. I knew I didn't fit the box, and I knew I was supposed to. So I hid in things. I hid in Lord of the Rings and my obsession with it. I hid in my writing and the characters I created. I hid in being able to do everything. I still do.

I think you just didn't see those things. You had a lot going on. I get that now. I do. I'm working on healing the scars left from everything. I wish you could see that. I wish you could see the woman I'm becoming. I'm not perfect. I never will be. But...

I'm better. I'm getting better.

You told me once no man would want someone as angry and stubborn as me. And I wish you could see the relationship I have with my partner. I wish you could see that I'm not angry anymore. I don't yell anymore, Mom. My too loud voice is finally quiet. Because I know I'm going to be heard regardless.

He makes me laugh, really truly laugh. I'd forgotten what that's like. I've learned to be wrong, Mom. I can apologize and be wrong, and not fear being unloved. Those emotions and tears that you always said were just a bad habit that you shouldn't have allowed me to form? I figured them out, Mom, and I've stopped crying. And that's his doing, Mom. I wish you could see that.

I'm not perfect. I never will be. But I've stopped hiding. It's been two and a half years since I've self harmed. We're working on fixing my eating disorder, and I'm a healthy weight again. I have the energy to take our dog hiking for miles. I laugh more than I cry. I listen as much as I speak. I'm me again.

You once told I was such a happy little girl and you didn't know what changed. You wanted to know where that little girl went. I've found her again, Mom. She was just hiding. I wish you could see that, Mom. I wish you could see me relax and feel safe. I wish you could see me happy with my partner. I wish you could see how he helps me heal.

I wish you see the woman I'm becoming. I think... I hope you would be proud. I miss you. I didn't realize how hard not having you around to see these things would be. But I hope you would be proud of who I'm becoming. I'm trying so hard, Mom, and I wish you could see my progress.

Miss you, Mom. I really do.

Love you...