Keeping it real…

These thoughts have sat in my notes for a very long time. It feels kind of a little demeaning to share them, yet at the same time it is my truth, and you can’t bang on about truth and keeping it real if you aren’t willing to expose yourself.  So………

Anytime I feel guilty for not having a relationship with you I consider the pros and cons. Give myself a mental reminder of some of the shitty things you’ve done to me. And there were some really shitty things. …If I was to write them down, I’d fill a book. And if I thought I was finished, I’d have to reopen it every now and then to add a new memory.

I’ve not written them down, because it seems like a super petty thing to do. But it feels unfair not to, not to let people know who you really are and just how mean spirited you can be.

I know I won’t write them, because it took me years to even accept who you are, and even then I still protect you.

But sometimes I really feel like I need to air those injustices, it’s a lot to keep inside, it feels like the truth should be told. But to what end? To paint myself as a victim, to expose you, I don’t really know what the point would be. I guess there are just things you did and said that really don’t sit well with me.

If you were to list my sins against you, they would be run of the mill normal, kid/parent stuff. You would have very little and it would need embellishing to raise an eyebrow.  If your truth  be told, you would have to hang your head in shame.

I am your victim, I know that, without a shadow of a doubt  and you know that to be true. Your victory is cold and hollow. You may have managed a well executed smear campaign, but it cost you a child.

On one hand it feels like it would be cathartic to tell it how it really was/is. Yet on the other, unhealthy to dwell on what can’t be changed.

It also feels, well to be honest I’m not able to put my finger on the feeling that it gives. Maybe shame, that I would even have to defend such contrived vitriol, or is it hurt that a mother could or would want to do that to a daughter.

And given that my reality is, even with a full admission, forgiveness is not an option, what would the point be, other than to poke an already angry, viscous bear.

This is the best I can muster, an anonymous blog that I know you will never see, nor do I want you to see . I’m not interested in your knowing how I feel, my silence towards you is cleansing, but my disappointment needs the occasional acknowledgement. Even if it is just from myself.

It’s strange, that I don’t have it in me to retaliate or feel the need to hurt you. Sometimes, I even have empathy for you.

One thing I do know for sure though, is those traits certainly didn’t come from you.

Footnotes footnote… 25th June

A lil something I came across today…

Footnote footnotes footnote 26th June 💁🏻‍♀️

Just another memory. Seems a lot of people feel the same way…