Family

Dear Mom, This letter is not for you.
Dear Mom, It is because of you that I will be an amazing mom. Not because you were “the best mom ever.” Not because you were an addict, abusive, or mean, but because of your absence, your inability to have the hard conversations, or hear me.
By Krystin DuCharme4 years ago in Confessions
Confessions of a Suicide
Dear mom; There is something I’ve always wanted to tell you and I couldn’t. I think a part of you knew but I’m not sure how big that part is. Mom you saved my life; I was going on a really hard path my depression was eating me like maggots to flesh. I just couldn’t fight it anymore in the end I was about to give up my life. Suicide has been something that I’ve contemplated and have attempted multiple times. Though this time was different because no one had any idea that I was doing that bad. I could still remember The day as if it was yesterday and I think I will be old and gray with wrinkles in my skin and you’ll be long gone but I will still remember this. I have a Grim Reaper tattoo on my arm with a number 13 on it. This represents the first time I tried to kill myself. I was just a child I didn’t know how important life could be or how important I could be to others. Every day would just drag on and I honestly just wanted it to be over. Growing up I idolized you I’ve always wanted to to be like you. To be half the woman that you are would be a blessing. As a woman now I remember that a lot of girls say that about their mom. For me this was different I seen how you hustled how you made sure that nothing was ever needed in my life. You were the firm hand and the best friend Mom simply you’re a bad ass. On top of that to have your perseverance and your kind heart I’d give anything for it. The day I was going to kill myself my letters were written my choice of how I was going to do it was laid out in front of me and that was going to be the end. I don’t know how but it’s like you knew it’s like you had a mom vision because you called me and you were just checking on me. You made me laugh and you told me that you love me it’s not something that we do all the time because I’m not mushy but the sentiment is always there. As I sat there pills in hand I went back to being a child. Just a little girl that wanted her mom you saved me and you didn’t even know it. To you it was just a Tuesday to me it was gonna be my last Tuesday. So thank you for being the mom that I always wanted and needed throughout my life I may have rebelled as a teenager. I know that I wasn’t always the easiest and I was your only child. You had no idea what to do with me. You were only 20 years old when you had me you were still in school. You were in a toxic relationship that was bringing you down and you still rose up from it all. For me at 20 I barely was keeping my head above water and you rose above in a way that I respected the hell out of you. To top it off when you had me you were all alone and that’s a scary thought at 20. For you to go through that and I’ve already been 20 and I know I couldn’t have done half of the things that you’ve done throughout my life . So now growing older as I am our relationship is the coolest thing that I could ever ask for. So many people are jealous of it because I tell you everything but I didn’t tell you this. How bad I was doing and how easily you could’ve lost me. You have no idea how much I owe you and how much you appreciate it. The love and respect that I have for you now will never be overturned.
By Marissa DeShields4 years ago in Confessions
the raid
hey mom I know we don't talk much anymore but I need to come clean, I'm about to tell you something I never wanted you to find out. do you remember when Jaylynn lived with us? she's my wife now but at the time we were both fifteen, and we were only dating, at this time she lived with us and the two of us went to see her family on the weekends.
By Jaysin Lee 4 years ago in Confessions
A Letter to My Mother
Dear Mommy, I could confess about sneaking out of the house with that top you told me not to wear on under my t-shirt, because you saw it as tasteless. At least I still followed your rules of decorum with regards to modesty, regardless of my fashion expression choices. I could confess about the time I went out of town to shop, although I was with responsible family friends, and called you, I felt it wasn't an appropriate activity for some reason. I might confess the detention that was not a make up quiz, that I got for bad planning on the departure time from home to elevator to homeroom. Or, I may confess that time I wasn't late with band practice, but out sharing ice cream with the young man with the Cadillac. But, I would rather confess how thankful I am that you are my Mother.
By Amy Chris Keiper aka LC Harrison4 years ago in Confessions
Look at what you’ve done!
It’s been a while since you crossed my mind, I’ve been good at keeping you in the distance. Letting you back never does me any good. Only leads me down memory lane, which leaves me in far more pain than I care to feel again. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough? Left me alone with my sister who was only 2 at the time; off to drink, party and screw up again. You didn’t bother to feed us, change us, you couldn’t even care enough to love us. You chose to abandon us, chose to give up and walk out before getting to know us. You and my father destroyed me before I could walk, you were my downfall, the start to my breakdown. My reason for wanting to jump off the edge. You wished you had aborted, remember when you told me to go kill myself just so you could dance on my grave? What kind mother could be so malicious? So vengeful, spiteful, aside from a woman who should have never been a mother. The damage you caused, the nights I cried myself to sleep as I hear again how much you didn’t want me, never fought for me hell you didn’t even show up to court to see who got to keep me, like I was some stupid trophy. But I guess I was more like a participant ribbon, the one you get so you don’t feel guilty about yourself. You didn’t care; rather look like a flake than a woman who lost to the father in court over the custody of your daughters. Do you know what it was like, having to explain why my mom was never around? Having to explain this stupid complicated family? You left, she came. I was your daughter and you never loved me, but a woman who already had 2 daughters still found it in her to love 3 more - to accept us for the broken, self destructive train wrecks that would eventually fall off the rails. losing whatever sanity we had preserved from the years of tears and the questions that always went unanswered. Let me ask you mother, what was it that you couldn’t love? What part of me was so repulsive it made you hate me so freaking much? Why wasn’t I enough? Why didn’t you ever try? Had it not been for my auntie I wouldn’t be alive, I would have known what love really was. We would have starved, would have died long before you came home from a drunken one night stand. The sad part is the little girl in me still cries for her mother, or the idea of you I had to make up inside my head. When the news hit that you had passed away, it hit me harder than I cared to admit. What you could never know is that apart of me died with you. It was a shock to me, that feeling as the it all replayed in my head. From the words you said, to the conversation we had while you laid in your death bed. I used to believe that you’d change, that one day you’d love us but that wasn’t the truth. You wanted to attention, forgiveness for the mistakes you made and like the woman I am, I released you from your guilty conscious but I realize that was the empath in me, i never want to see anyone die alone, so you got me. That’s okay, I’m the daughter who was born from darkness and chaos but difference is I’ll always choose light, always choose love. Look what you’ve done mother, I became the opposite of you.
By Chelsey Jean4 years ago in Confessions
Secrets - Letter to my Mom
My dearest Mom, I’ve always been scared to tell you how I really feel. In any given situation I feel judged by you. When I was younger it always felt like you stood against me, and it still feels that way sometimes. When you moved all the way across the country and left me and my brother with our dad, new stepmom, and three kids we barely knew, I felt betrayed. It wasn’t until I was much older in life that I knew how that change affected you too.
By Emily Ferrell4 years ago in Confessions
A Mother's Love
To my dearest mother, I must confess to you in regards to that which I could not let go. As you know all too well, I battled many addictions, and was nearly overcome by them when you took me back into your home. A broken man with little to no hope is who you remember moved into your guest room that dark October evening. I had achieved what many would call success in my professional life, but I had failed in that which matters more-love. With my hopes for marriage and a family dashed against the rocks, the pain became more than I could bare. Drugs, the arms of fast women, and compulsive gambling are what I turned to for relief. God sat waiting for me with open arms of comfort, but time and again I ran to Earthly pleasures. Each time I indulged, the sharp pain that ate away at my soul would be dulled, only to return with vengeance each morning. Nothing but diving further into the chasm of my addictions would return me to a state absent of pain. This vicious downward spiral nearly destroyed me. But then it was you, the one who first held me, that offered me a sanctuary of comfort. Loving me all the more despite my sins, you opened your home to me. As you recall, I left my career behind me and sought recovery, being engulfed in your unconditional love. Our Lord showed me mercy in the form of a fiercely loving mother.
By Luke Woodruff4 years ago in Confessions
The Truth And Nothing But The Truth
Dear step-mother, Oh boy, just that title alone would have seen the back of my thighs black and blue for days. Hence why it has taken me this long to admit, I have a confession to make, although I never had any intention of confessing my crime. Not sure why, because I’ve been punished for it a thousand times over, albeit without any proof it was even me.
By Colleen Millsteed 4 years ago in Confessions
Mama Bird
Dear Mama, Happy Mother's Day! I'll start this letter off how I did with all of the homemade cards I gave you growing up, "You are the greatest mom in the whole wide world, and I love you with all of my heart!". You have always been my best friend and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've told you almost everything about my life; I never felt like I had to hide anything from you. In fact, you were often the first person I would come to when I had news about my life, good or bad. Whenever I'm struggling with anything or am feeling down, I always come to you. Your voice still calms and soothes me like it did when I was a child. When the world feels too cold to survive, your hugs fill me with warmth and the courage to keep going. If I was a snowman I'd melt in your arms. I swear you are the sun and the only thing that keeps this solar system from falling apart. Even though we have such a close relationship, you may read a few things in this letter that come as a surprise.
By S4 years ago in Confessions
Miraculous Trajectory
Hey Mom. I never told you this before, but there's a story behind that yellow piece of tape on Marie's bumper. I promised not to say anything less it be on my grave as we all know it would send shivers down your spine to know just what happened the day the tape was placed there. Marie and her baby Kylie are just fine and have lived to tell the tale, though, I don't believe I feel incredibly safe near Lee anymore!
By Mist Memories4 years ago in Confessions
Mothers in Law
We drove home in the late afternoon slanting sunshine of that March day, after a long and arduous birth that spanned from the previous afternoon. It was a turning of season in every way as the snowbanks receded on lawns and the breeze carried promises of warmer days. I was now somebody's mother. We arrived to a full house which smelled of homemade lasagna and garlic bread, the language of love. I remember her teary gasp as she laid eyes on her first granddaughter; her son's first-born child, for the first time. I was elated, exhausted and sore. I somehow managed to escape the excitement by sneaking upstairs to sleep off the whirlwind event that had just taken place inside my body. Hours later, the door to the bedroom creaked open and my husband brought in our daughter. Shadows of my world against a hallway of light, such a beautiful moment, and yet my eyes could only focus on that small, pastel, plastic soother that had been introduced to her while I slept. I recalled the midwives talking about nipple confusion, and the importance of getting nursing right. I glared at the soother, angry. I thought up all these wicked scenarios that my baby had been downstairs crying for me, needing me, and that man-made thing had been shoved in her face instead. How silly, now when I recall that memory. She nursed like a champ anyhow, and so the entire issue was moot. In fact, she continued to nurse exclusively for thirteen beautiful months until transitioning to a bottle, and then cup, and now stands nearly as tall as me at thirteen years old. She thrived. She was perfect in every way, and continues to amaze me every day still. But sometimes I recall that moment when I'm in the shower, or walking the dogs, and feel guilt at how I'd reacted, how I internalized such a trivial non-issue as if I'd been wronged, or worse, undermined, in my first hours of motherhood. How easy it was for me to accuse my mother-in-law of this crime. In my head anyway, I can't even recall if I had said any of these things aloud. Not to my mother-in-law, I would never. But I likely didn't even vocalize it to my husband either. And yet the memory burns sometimes. Silly, trivial, and such a waste of my time.
By Christina Hunter4 years ago in Confessions
You ruined me...
Dear Mom, I love you, but you ruined me. You and dad forced me to become an adult when I was just nine years old. I know you didn't necessarily think that's what you were doing. You thought you were saving my soul when you pulled me out of public school, deciding to homeschool me. You called yourself my teacher, but you weren't. I taught myself from the textbooks we managed to scrounge up, most of which were painfully outdated - I think the most recent one was at least ten or fifteen years old.
By D’radia Odinsdottir4 years ago in Confessions