Boxes from mom

Rebuilding a broken relationship is hard. I left home at 24 with my then husband and my baby girl and never looked back. The family i came from was broken and all i wanted was a home filled with love and trust. Well that shit didn’t workout so well either. Now here i am staring 45 in the face and putting my life in order. I have the love of a good man and my baby girl is a grown woman. With my husbands support i am working on that old relationship with my mother. Some days it is a bit overwhelming. Today i got a box from mom. Mostly sunflower things she once had in her kitchen, now to live in mine. Funny how after years of not speaking we are so much alike in our tastes.

But in that box there were photos… memories of my early childhood. I forgot how beautiful my mom was. Before anger and life put black holes inside of her heart. In the days when she still believed in fairy tales and my stepfathers adoration of her. Before she had any idea what he was doing to me. In the days when i thought my younger brothers were precious. And before the words, ” you would be so pretty if only,,,, your weren’t so fat” had etched them self into my brain. I looked like a mini version of my mom with strawberry blond hair. I forgot my hair was ever that color. Now i know where my daughter got it from.

I stare at that photo and i am sad and angry. I can hear them both tell me how it was my fault that i was sexually abused because i was a sexual child. I look at that little girl and see sad eyes and a fake smile. I was 5 and smaller than my younger brother. Not everything from those days were bad. Not everything from the years that followed was bad either. But everything is colored by your earliest years.

I avoided my sensual, sexual side for a long time because i saw it as bad. I am grateful that i have grown and have this man in my life who, without trying to, has helped me embrace my sensuality. I love being a woman who knows her wants and desires and feels free to express them. And who, with his help, sees her mother not as the enemy, but as a human woman full of flaws and love. No my mom is not perfect. Her childhood damage marred her too. But she had strength in places i lacked. And i am stronger and wiser than i once thought.

I raised a daughter to be strong and confident. And one day she will look back at photos and marvel at how much she looks like her mom too. And hopefully have fond memories of the days when she was little and life was different.


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