A chain of broken promises, slowly chiseling away at our once solid relationship. "I swear things are different this time"; words I have heard many times before. Momma, once a term of endearment, is now nearly synonymous with betrayal.
For months now I have stuck by your side, regardless of how I felt about your decisions, and regardless of how unappreciative you were. I was still under the impression that "your kids are the most important things in your life." This phrase was something I grew up hearing consistently, so I had no reason to question it. The repetitive and straight forward nature of that simple statement had made it a fact, similar to "the sky is blue" or "your middle name is Danielle." However this notion of importance faded, slowly at first and then as quickly as a lightning strike.
You made some friends which delighted me; I'd always wanted to know that I could still be social when I grew up. Watching you I was never sure of that. One of these innocent friendships soon turned romantic though, in the midst of an already difficult separation between you and Dad. It didn't take long before this man consumed the entirety of your life.
You ignored your daughter 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You avoided coming home so that you could have private conversations after work, which seemed pointless as you would shut your office at work and talk to him in private for hours. You refused to answer your phone for anybody but him.
All of these actions isolated not only yourself, but me as well. You failed to realize this. I don't think it was a conscious decision for you, however no matter how many times it was brought up to you, you would refuse to step back and realize what your life had become.
I would attempt to talk to you about something, anything, and you couldn't even acknowledge the fact that I was in the same room as you. We used to have deep conversations for hours at a time, but now I couldn't seem to keep your attention long enough to tell you I was struggling in a class. I would tell you I felt ignored and unimportant, you would half-heartedly apologize, then turn back to your phone.
We used to be the mother-daughter pair that made everybody jealous. We trusted each other, I turned to you for advice and comfort, and was honest with you. People commented constantly about the closeness of our relationship, marveling at the fact that your daughter didn't despise you like most teens do toward their parents.
Over the past six months you have more than proven that our relationship holds less of a value to you than it once did; far less so than it does to me. To protect myself I had to start building a wall and stop taking your word as truth; which you of course failed to notice.
Despite all of this you were still successful in raising your child. Now your daughter won't enter into the adult world with her child-like innocence and ability to trust intact. So thank you Mom, for making me grow cold, and thank you very much for helping me to realize that the only person I can truly rely on is myself.
For months now I have stuck by your side, regardless of how I felt about your decisions, and regardless of how unappreciative you were. I was still under the impression that "your kids are the most important things in your life." This phrase was something I grew up hearing consistently, so I had no reason to question it. The repetitive and straight forward nature of that simple statement had made it a fact, similar to "the sky is blue" or "your middle name is Danielle." However this notion of importance faded, slowly at first and then as quickly as a lightning strike.
You made some friends which delighted me; I'd always wanted to know that I could still be social when I grew up. Watching you I was never sure of that. One of these innocent friendships soon turned romantic though, in the midst of an already difficult separation between you and Dad. It didn't take long before this man consumed the entirety of your life.
You ignored your daughter 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You avoided coming home so that you could have private conversations after work, which seemed pointless as you would shut your office at work and talk to him in private for hours. You refused to answer your phone for anybody but him.
All of these actions isolated not only yourself, but me as well. You failed to realize this. I don't think it was a conscious decision for you, however no matter how many times it was brought up to you, you would refuse to step back and realize what your life had become.
I would attempt to talk to you about something, anything, and you couldn't even acknowledge the fact that I was in the same room as you. We used to have deep conversations for hours at a time, but now I couldn't seem to keep your attention long enough to tell you I was struggling in a class. I would tell you I felt ignored and unimportant, you would half-heartedly apologize, then turn back to your phone.
We used to be the mother-daughter pair that made everybody jealous. We trusted each other, I turned to you for advice and comfort, and was honest with you. People commented constantly about the closeness of our relationship, marveling at the fact that your daughter didn't despise you like most teens do toward their parents.
Over the past six months you have more than proven that our relationship holds less of a value to you than it once did; far less so than it does to me. To protect myself I had to start building a wall and stop taking your word as truth; which you of course failed to notice.
Despite all of this you were still successful in raising your child. Now your daughter won't enter into the adult world with her child-like innocence and ability to trust intact. So thank you Mom, for making me grow cold, and thank you very much for helping me to realize that the only person I can truly rely on is myself.
