Note: I found this in my writing folder.
Little girl, there you are. So small and scared. So full of spitfire and rebellion. You are quiet right now, but let someone anger you and see the hell you rain down.
She will eventually love you, child. Your mother, I mean. It’s going to take a lot and it’ll take a toll on you waiting and waiting. You were destined for great things, I used to think. Except destiny means something different to me now. You were destined to me. You were destined for pain, scars and torment. All the while wishing, hoping and reaching.
She will teach you how to doubt yourself. Because what kind of child isn’t loved by her mother? You are so smart, talented and beautiful. If given half the chance and a small pinch of encouragement you’d grow to such a wonderful woman. If someone would just see who you are and what you’re capable of then your future can be so bright.
Instead your beautiful spirit was handed to the wrong mother. She was herself tormented, hated and discarded by her own mother. She doesn’t know how any of this works. She is very broken, your mother. When she was your age she was bent and twisted until there was nothing left of her. She hit her head at one point and whatever was wrong with her at the beginning became worse. It’s not your fault, little girl. She could never love you. She could never love any of you. She doesn’t understand what that is on an emotional level. Don’t let her intellect fool you. She knows how she’s supposed to act for everyone else, but she doesn’t have the emotions to pull off the act completely.
You will never become the woman you were supposed to be. Not in this lifetime at least. You’ll will struggle just to live a normal life and barely manage that. You will make decisions that appear to be based in logic, but they will always be the wrong ones. You will sacrifice yourself because that’s what you’re supposed to do. And when you come out on the other side it will be too late for you. You will be on the downhill slide of your life without the tools to navigate it.
She will die lonely and miserable. At some point in your life you would have been glad to hear it. You will have worked so hard to gain her approval and she will have thwarted you all the way. You are nothing to her. She will never be proud of you. She will never hold you in her arms or tell you that you are precious to her. She will stop regretting giving you life. But she eventually learns to respect you. She eventually learns that you’re stronger than she is because you have not become her.
It’s going to be a long road, little girl. There will be more pitfalls and obstacles than you can possibly navigate. You learn that when your goals are within reach you might as well just let them go. You will believe you’re a failure so what’s the point? You will grow up believing that you aren’t good enough for that goal, that man or that position in society. You will always believe that you are lacking in skills and talent. You are brimming with talent. There is beauty in the words you form. You are amazing and beautiful and there will be no one to ever tell you. So, I will tell you now. Your life will be hard, little girl, but you will never completely fail. You will always show strength in adversity. And you will always win the little battles. I will hug you, little girl, and let you know that there will be people that love you immensely and they will be your daughters. You will love them back in a way she was not able to love you. You will always be imperfect but you will never be her.
That is your greatest fear, you know. That you will eventually become her – angry, alone, bitter and so afraid. You have no fear, little one. You are brave and strong and able to stare down any adversity. But you don’t know how to succeed. And you will never learn that skill. You will never learn to be comfortable with who you are. No one sees you there, little girl. No one notices that you are struggling to grow and learn and be who you should always have been. But you are not her. And you will never be her. You will be who you need to be.
There will be no one to rescue you. No one to see behind the masks that you will inevitably create. No one to notice that if you were given more than half a chance you could be tremendous. A few people in your life will come forward, but she will beat them back. She hates you, little one. That’s not your fault. It is not your fault. As you grow you will bring these scars and wounds with you. You’ll apply them to every relationship you have – always seeking external validation from the people who would hurt you the most – and you will always come away disappointed. I can’t advise you on that, because I have never learned to be anything more than you will ever be.
I forgive you because you need that. You need to be able to look at yourself and realize you had no choice. It was taken from you by the gods who put you with that mother. Had she been a bit stronger – like one of her sisters – perhaps things would have been different. But you will never be her. You will never hate your daughters. You will never harm them or hold them back or feel jealousy. And you will have the most beautiful, intelligent, put-together daughters. You will try to do what’s right (and fail most of the time) and things will be ok.
She used to cuddle you and make you feel special. She helped you learn to read and write well before grade school. She loves to show you off to strangers, but she’s cold to you now. You’ve come into your own mind and shown that you are brilliant. She is envious of you because you have your entire life… a life she will do her best to impede. She tells you now that you’re not as smart as you think you are. That your ideas are overdone. That you haven’t had an original thought. That you don’t possess any talent and that any number of people are so much better than you. But you’re brilliant. Your logical mind is a thing to behold. And you can feel people. You can hone in on their feelings and guess correctly what they’re feeling and what you need to say to help. Your touch brings relief to troubled souls. You are special. You have to see that in yourself.
I am here to forgive you for being you. You didn’t choose any of that. You didn’t choose to be tortured, put down and denigrated by the person who should love you the most. You didn’t choose to have someone so broken birth you. None of that was your fault. You can choose to let the scars heal though and move on. There is nothing you can do now. That’s why I’m doing this.
I am you, little girl, and I forgive you. We will heal and we will be ok. We will stop chasing rainbows and appreciate what we have done so far. We will not die bitter and alone. We’ll never reach the heights that you could’ve reached if you’d have had another mother. Even at your tender age it’s too late for that. But we can find peace. We can end up in a better place. We can find our voice finally. We can heal.
That’s what I’m doing here, you know. Healing in the best way I can. Trying to overcome the demons which have taken us over. We struggle for years to come to terms with ourselves. We choose bad partners and friends and make some pretty bad decisions. But there’s still that small part of us – you – that pulls us through. You are still here in me because she was never able to fully exorcise you. You are tender and full of wonder and beyond anything she ever deserved. The gods are testing you now. The end result is me. I know this isn’t where we wanted to be. But this is where we should be. It’s not too bad right now. You’ll never be fine, because she has instilled in you a sense of worthlessness that you will never be able to shake. But you’ll be ok. Your strength and resilience is a thing to behold. You will always wish your mother loved you, but it’s no longer necessary for our survival. We have come this far without that love, with her disapproval, with her inability to ever let us fully develop. We are broken. But there’s part of us that shines. That part is you. I’d like to be friends again if we can. Little girl, you are a wonder and that never, ever goes away.