Family
On Letting Go
Mom, I wish we could be close, but I’m tired. I can’t take responsibility for your pain anymore. I’m sorry you grew up in a time where marriage to a man dictated your worth, but you chose a broken, abusive person to love. Instead of believing who he told you he really was, you dreamed up a fantasy and lived inside of it, never accepting the facts.
By Andrea Standby4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Mum....
Dear Mum, I don't want to tell you anything, When I was 10 yourself and dad sat us, me and my older brother, down in his bedroom, he was watching a movie at the time, I can't recall what one, that detail doesn't matter, but I wish I did. Wish I had just been asked to watch a movie with my family. On this day my life change in a spiral for the next 3 years, you had tears in your eyes, dad looked guilty, I knew something was wrong, I knew for a while, I just didn't want to believe, you never do when your 10, you spoke first...
By Brooke C4 years ago in Confessions
Letter from an Emotionally Neglected Daughter on Mothers' Day
Letter from an Emotionally Neglected Daughter on Mothers' Day Hi, Ma. I hope you are doing well, but I know if I ask, you will give me a litany of ailments and stories of perceived hostile acts of grievances towards you. I will ask anyway, disassociating while you talk, a protective habit that I developed while still in diapers. I interject little “mmmhmmms” here and there, but even if I did not, you would continue talking anyway. You don’t really need me there. Just an ear as a prop that makes you think someone is listening. That ear can be attached to anyone and anything: me, my brothers, the dog. Hell, it could be unattached. Even better. A sentient ear with no mouth to give you feedback or criticism. Only words of worship and praise for you, while your criticism is unleashed on anyone and anything within your orbit: your children, your sisters, your brother, your friends, strangers on television, whomever.
By Kai Wilson4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Mother
Hi Mom I know its been a year since you left us, and that your in a better place now free from all the pain and suffering that your life endured. I know the odds were stacked against you raising Allie and me all alone, coping with your physical and mental disabilities, and dealing with the sad fact that the rest of our family considered you a black sheep because of circumstances out of your control.
By Wolf_of_ Frost4 years ago in Confessions
I Hated You
Mother Mom, I never knew you. I never got the chance. I hid it from dad but for the longest time I hated you. I hated you so much. You brought me into this world and then you left, just like that. Did I mean nothing to you? Did my existence cause you that much pain? Was I that horrible?
By Emilie Turner4 years ago in Confessions
It Is Unavoidable
Hey Mom. I have never told you this before, but for me, it is unavoidable to stop thinking that I only have about 25 years left to enjoy your presence, your calls, and your messages of encouragement. It's already been 32 years since I came into this world. It is impossible that I stop thinking about it. And I want to tell you the following… I still remember that day, as if it were today. It was a Friday. Where you and dad went for a weekend retreat, away from the church we've all been going to since we were kids. I did not remember that you had left, and well, I thought you were at home.
By Greighton Rivera4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Stepmom,
Dear Stepmom, These confession to you are difficult. Before you read them...if you read them, just know that I care about you so much and I would never want to hurt you…or intend for you to see this…but what you’ve done to me hasn't stopped hurting and this feels like a good place to get things out so…here we go.
By Madelynn Bilbrey4 years ago in Confessions
A Letter to a Lost Mother
Dear Mom, It has almost been fifteen years since you died. I was only eighteen, still a child. Of course, I didn’t think so. I’ve learned so much since then. I’ve changed in a lot of ways. I’m older, wiser and can look back and understand things much better than I did at the time. I really wish I could speak to you again, if only for a moment. There was so much tension, bad blood and just so many things that was never settled. As much as I’ve tried to move on I can’t honestly say I have. As much as I grieve, it never seems to lessen. I’m even crying right now just trying to write this letter that you’ll never read.
By Justin W Parks4 years ago in Confessions
A few things...
Hey Mom! I never told you this before, but…well, there are a few things actually. Gosh. My hands are shaking as I type this. It shouldn't have taken me so long, I know that. I was…well I was angry. Angry at dad, the world, you - even though you didn't deserve it. That anger blinded me to a lot you did for me growing up.
By Nicholas Jansen4 years ago in Confessions
For you, Mom
Hey mom, I have a small secret I’ve kept from you. I don’t know if it will surprise you or not, but when I lived at home, do you remember how my cats would sometimes sit on the table? Zoey, Snickers, Rusty, Milly—all of them? Though Zoey and Snickers have passed on, I feel it is fair to tell you this.
By Dawn S4 years ago in Confessions
Hello, Mom
Hello, Mom Is that really how I should begin this letter, with the ever-present taste of my grief in my mouth? It's been nineteen years, nearly twenty now, since you left me and, while the pain has certainly dulled, it lingers still. Like you do, I suppose. Sometimes I imagine I can feel you around me, a whispering presence that I take some comfort in, but it's been a long time since I've tried to speak to you.
By Nita Hendrix4 years ago in Confessions
