No more right

I carried out a vendetta against my mom for many years.

In the later years, we didn’t brawl, like we used to. But I harbored some stuff against her, her motherhood.

Stuff like, feeling like she didn’t give me what I needed as a child,

feeling like she had abandoned me when I was going through an emotional time,

feeling like she cared more about carrying out a God’s law and will more than about me, more than our relationship.

Anytime we fought or argued or debated, it was a stalemate.

I couldn’t get past her insensitivity,

And I think she couldn’t get past my “recklessness” with life, faith, God.

For years, that was all I saw in her:

Brute faith and scrutiny toward anything that didn’t fit into her life and faith.

And all I saw in me was a child, a little girl begging to be accepted, loved, seen, heard.

I played victim so well.

So well, that it wasn’t until very recently, like yesterday, that I realized, this whole time, I’ve been trying to get her to agree with me.

I’d been trying to get her to say I’m right.

That’s literally the whole of it.

I just wanted her to agree with my justification for feeling what I felt.

The whole thing about feeling like she was a bad mom, like she was too stubborn with her faith – these were just disguises, ways to cover up the truth of my intention.

Ways that could possibly weigh her with guilt and shame, so she could break and see that I. Am. Right.

L O L.

All these years… what I really wanted wasn’t the mom I never had.

What I’d really wanted was to win.

Or rather for my illusion of victimhood to win.

And now that I see this, I can laugh.

I can be freely grateful to my mom, for who she is.

Who I am, as her daughter.

Who I am, as my own person.

And who she is, as her own person.

It was never about her,

It was never about being seen or heard or loved.

It was about wanting to be right.

And the releasing of that illusion, that right and wrong could ever exist between us,

So I can come home to me.

As I am.

All I am.

Mom – if you understood this blog post at all, you’d be so proud. I love you.

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