I Gave Up on You in Journal

That’s what my mom said to me yesterday.
When I asked her about what choices she thought she didn’t have. When I pushed and prodded and dug and tried to uncover the real reason for her abandonment. She just said
“I gave up on you. I just gave up on you.”

Yeah. I get that. I get that you gave up on me. You gave me up, in your heart and mind, as soon as you realized that I was being abused by the man you chose to marry, and decided to stick with that man until the day you die. Nothing would convince you to part with that man. Not the abuse and emotional and mental destruction of your daughter. Not the pain and resentment of your son. Not even now, when I have a child of my own, will you even consider acknowledging the value you give to a grown ass man who abuses little children over the value you have for your actual children.
This isn’t anything that I didn’t know or that was perfectly obvious from the outset. But I’m glad you said it.
Actually, I owe you thanks. Thank you for being honest, and actually telling me what you did, instead of half assed excuses.
Thank you for letting me know your position. I have utmost respect for the decisions you’ve made in your life. Respect in that, I will honor them. I may not agree with your choices; how could I? You’ve put me in an impossible position. You chose your husband over me. And then ignored, covered up, obviated, and clouded any evidence of my hurt and suffering in your mind to make yourself feel good about it. I obviously do not mean enough to you to change your mind about putting me through a hellish childhood. I don’t agree with that decision. But I will honor it. I will not attempt to contact you, get to know you, spend time with you, do anything for you, with you, or around you. I’m not worth it to you. I get that. I will respect that. I won’t try to change your mind.

There was something else you said to me yesterday that is utterly evil. Please allow me to unburden my mind.
I will not only be distancing myself from your presence and influence because I feel I must respect your choices, but because you are directly threatening my son.
If you remember from our conversation yesterday, I was trying to describe to you my ideal relationship. My ideal relationship in which both parties are open and honest, willing to share their feelings without fear. A beautiful partnership in which love binds and heals all. And do you remember what you said to me?
You told me that that isn’t possible for me.
You told me that I have a cold and uninviting shell. That I am closed off and that I scare people away. I scare away any openness, I induce fear in those who might want to share with me.
And I remember, this is when I got very angry. “And how do you think I got this way?” I growled at you.
Oh, and you just shook your head sadly. “You’ve always been that way.”
Like I was just born this way. As if, you as a mother have suffered terribly with a child that is just naturally unlovable. You poor fucking thing. How horrible. How terrible it must be to be cursed with a baby that is unable to love you, and worse yet, doesn’t like you at all.
And you might remember, I did explode a bit there. I hope you can forgive my outburst. But I really don’t give a fuck what you think anymore. I really can’t take you seriously anymore. You’re evil for saying that to me. You’re evil for suggesting that I am incapable of love. You’re evil for saying that I cannot have a deep and meaningful connection with my son. You’re an evil person. You really would try to sabatoge my relationship with my baby right from the beginning? That’s rhetorical; of course you would. You are.
And so, with some glimmerings of regret for the mother relationship that I wish I had, I will terminate this monstrous, disgusting, slimy excuse of an exchange right here. You realize I have no choice but to do this. You are threatening my baby. And I cannot allow that.