Mother,

Thank you for leaving.

We waited for you. We cried for you. We worried, loved, lived for you. And you left, running out that door with a man who is not the man you “love.” Are we no longer the children you cherish so dearly? Are we now monsters who take up your time, energy, money? Do we, now, hurt to look at, hurt to live with, hurt to love? We are not monsters, we are not evil, we are not alone. And we will not forgive you.

You left without looking back, without saying, “Yes, I made a mistake.” You left with no apology on your lips, no regret in your eyes. You left, shedding the burden of children and family as you ran away. Since there was no apology then, perhaps you will say, “You’re welcome,” now that we are over you and over your backstabbing tendencies and over your problems. You are not our problem anymore. Now you are to be taken care of by him, the man for who you left the man you loved for fifteen years and more.

Perhaps you think you deserve three tries, three strikes. As there have only been two new loves, two new men, two marriages, you should get another chance, right? You ask us to try to forgive you; try to forget the pain you caused. We cannot. I cannot.

I dreamt of you for night and weeks after you left. Dreamt and hoped that you would return, that you would hug us, say you’re sorry, you didn’t mean it, it was a joke.

Three weeks later I hated you.

Thank you for leaving and teaching us that life is not always perfect: stoves burn out, light bulbs are smashed, families break apart as easily as a sugar statue. Thank you for leaving and showing us that not everyone cares like they say they do, that people lie. Accusations come true, right before our eyes, at the moment when everything is right and everything seems okay. In the middle of everything, all that happiness, you ruined out elation, our nirvana.

It was right after he took you back. You took him back; you took him for granted. Love does not last forever, it does not rule all, does not triumph over evil and vanity and lust.

Thank you for telling me that I hold grudges for too long, that I do not take responsibility into my own hands and care for the children you abandoned. Thank you for thinking down of me, thinking bad of me, talking to me like I am still a child, still so ignorant to the hurt life can cause, the hurt people can cause. I know now, thanks to you, that even the person who made you, who taught you, who loved you unconditionally for so many years…that person can hurt you.

Thank you for thinking that I am too young to know that such things last forever, that I cannot possibly understand what you did because, hell, I was only fourteen, wasn’t I? Yes, I was young, so young. But you raised me tough. You raised me not to cry when I was yelled at, not to fight back, not to let anyone get the better of me. I am no fool. I took your teachings to heart when they were true, when they were what was best for me. Now you are trying to teach me something new, something as idiotic and one-sided as forgiveness for your benefit.

Thank you for forcing strength, wisdom, responsibility, and maturity upon me. Thank you for forcing motherhood and house making upon me. Thank you for forcing me to grow up, become an adult. Now that I realize I cannot return and claim my five lost years, I want to thank you for taking away so much of my childhood, for your own selfish benefit, for your own pleasure, your own joy ride.

Thank you for leaving. Now I do not have to be subject to your strict, ridiculous rules and your never-ending complaints. Now I can live, with so much responsibility and maturity and wisdom so as to not go along the same path you did.

Thank you, for through your mistakes, I learned much.

Now I am free,

Your Daughter.