Last night I snuck into her bedroom. Tip toed, hoping she wouldn’t wake from the noise, from the light.
I leaned over her crib and gazed at her sleeping body. Carefully placed my hand delicately on her back. Watched her breathe. My daughter. I whispered promises.
Sneaking back to my bedroom with salty mascara stained tears at my cheeks I stared at the empty wine glass, the clicking cursor in the email. My relationship with my mother is _____.
It’s a sucker punch. Air knocked out. A gasp.
Yesterday, my mother wrote me to tell me how unhelpful I am and how I don’t have any real friends because I can’t open up my heart.
She cut, for the sake of the bleed.
There are words that spilled over the page like cabernet shattered; staining, creeping across the crevices as tears poured out of me and onto four pages. Promptly deleted. I don’t want this to be our story. I am done with our story.
It is now about her. Her tendrils of fine blonde hair that curl at her neck.
It is about her brilliant blue eyes that if tear stained won’t ever be at my negligence.
Her childhood will not be filled with memories of meals denied for the sake of her appearance. She will be beautiful regardless of her appetite.
She won’t be called stupid, or a moron, or a retard or any other synonym for the same sentiment. She won’t be criticized and ridiculed. I won’t defend or excuse or accept blame for someone else’s vileness.
She is gorgeous, this daughter of mine. Affectionate. Stubborn. Adventurous. Silly girl.
She has so many to watch her, to look over her, to love her. Her brother. Her sensitive, kind, loving brother who hugged me last night as I cried and told me he would never be mean to his children.
Yes, I think she will be okay.
These whispered promises of mine that I keep in my heart. Sewn up and sealed with tears. With love. With sadness. With wishes from the damaged and dreams from the hopeful. You will call her beautiful, and she will believe it.
She won’t survive, she’ll thrive.
All of these photos are from instagram. You should follow me: motus8
A continuation from my post: Call Me Beautiful.
Posted with my series: Let’s Talk About the Serious Stuff