I’m so sorry, mom.
You are MORE than good enough. I need you to know this. I’m not saying it out of pity. It’s the truth and I’m so sorry for everything that I have said, and for everything that I may say in the future. I don’t mean any of it. I’m just fucking ungrateful mom. I’m a fucking brat. I’m fucking insolent to you, and that makes me a coward. I don’t deserve you. I’m a fucking hypocrite. I accuse you of things that I have done as well. I’m a little bitch. I project my fears onto you, and I blame you for all my struggles, and you don’t deserve it mom. I need to learn to hold myself accountable, to face my issues, and not point the finger every time that I lose control. I need to man the fuck up. It hurts me. I’m so hurt. It hurts me so much that I have distorted your self-view as a mother. I wish that I could take it all back. I wish that I can take all of your pain away. Your not a fuck up mom. I’m so fucking sorry for telling you that, and for making you believe that. I’m the one that is fucked up and I don’t care for the world to figure it out. I deserve the shame. There’s no excuse or justification for my behavior towards you. I fucking eat you alive whenever I have a tantrum, and I do it insensibly. That makes me a fucking monster. That makes me so cruel, and evil, and even if you forgive me, I will never forgive myself. For every tear that I have caused, I will work even harder to make all of your dreams come true. I will change, I promise I will. Not just for you, but for me. The more I hurt you, the more I hurt myself. The more you break, the more I break. I promise you mommy. I will be better. You won’t have to walk on egg shells any more. You’ll one day be walking on marble floors instead. I promise you mom. Just bear with me. Please don’t give up on me. Please don’t lose hope in me.
I play tough, but I’m such a little bitch. I act out of pocket with you because I know you’ll let me. You will never hurt me. You never even hang up on me mom. I could be saying the most fucked up shit in the world, and you listen to me. You always listen. You always hear me, no matter how much it hurts you, and I take advantage of it. I become a fucking demon. I go on and on and on, until you begin to cry, and I tell you that I don’t feel bad. You suggest that leaving may solve my problems, and I tell you that maybe it would, and that I can easily go back to being without you like before. I tell you that you should’ve never came back into my life. I told you that “you couldn’t do shit before, and you can’t do shit now”. I’m a fucking pussy and I’m too damn fucking prideful to admit it. Everything that I’ve said you, I actually mean the exact opposite. I’m just too much of a tough guy to admit it.
The truth is, and God’s my witness—I do feel bad. I feel really really bad for making you cry, but I don’t tell you because then that makes me wrong, and I always want to be right. The truth is mom, if you left, if I lost you, I would then be lost as well. A world without you, is a world without me. You gave me life, and if you lost yours, I would also lose mine. I don’t think I could survive without you mom. I wouldn’t be able to breathe without you. I wouldn’t be able to go on without you. I need you more than I need myself. Yes, I do, because your my other half and incase God ever chose to take me early, I’m counting on you to love, protect, and raise my children for me. You’re literally the only one that’s capable of loving and protecting them as much as I do. You already do, and for that, I will always worship you. If I died right now, I know I’d forever rest in peace knowing my kids are with you. The truth is, you can do something now. You can, you have been, you still do. You do it all. Literally. You do it all for me, and for Yamiryx, and for Joey, and Mikey, and for Lee-anna, and for Sophia , and for Joeen, and for Nani.
You have adjusted your whole life in order to make sure that I make it through nursing school. You’re dead ass my partner. You’re my baby daddy lol You go broke providing for my kids and you’ve never, still today, have charged me for it. You would always tell me that we got this, and that we’re co-parenting, and I would flip out. I would tell you that your doing too much, and that they are my kids, and that I don’t need you. I made you feel bad for making me feel bad, so you intended to explain yourself, to make me feel better. Truth is, you didn’t have to mom. I knew your intentions, and they’re the best ever. I’m just so fucking prideful. I’m so damn stubborn. I’m fucking ignorant, and ungrateful. I got so accustomed to doing everything on my own–I forgot how to ask for help. Even when I knew I needed it, I was in denial because looking for it made me feel weak, and incapable, and dependent, and that’s why I rebutted how I did. I’m so damn ignorant, I tell people that you better do everything for me because you owe me, and that’s not true. I’m such a bitch for that. I’m fucking arrogant. You don’t owe me shit mom. You may feel like you do at times, but you don’t, and I know that you do everything for me, simply because you love me. Not because you feel that you have to, because you literally don’t, but because you want to. Because you choose to. Because you love me how I love my kids, and that’s no regular love. Your no regular mom. Your a super fucking incredible angel of a mother, and you deserve the world, plus more. I’ve been so damn blessed to have you as a mother, and grandmother. I know so many mothers that say the most fucked up shit ever to their kids. I have witnessed many mothers kick their daughters out onto the streets, deny to take care of their grandchildren, charge to take care of their grandchildren, literally hit and abuse their own children and grandkids. I know many that have not spoken to their children, if either over a fight, or abandonment, and they don’t care. They live as if their children don’t exist. I have never, ever, experienced any of that from you. You don’t have it in you to hurt me, no matter how much I hurt you. You love me unconditionally. You deserve my attention, and my love, and my time, and my company, along with my daughters, over anyone else in the world. I take you for granted, and I need to stop it. Instead of delivering love to you, I deliver animosity. That only leaves space for aches, and I hate that I cause that. I should be protecting you. I’m so sorry mom…
I hate that I often bring up the past, I hate that I bring you back there, I hate that I use it as a weapon, and I hate that I beat you with it. I’m such a fucking little bitch for that. I need to learn how to face my own issues. I need to learn how to work out my difficulties. I must stop ignoring them. I must instead, integrate and address them. It’s imperative in order for me to heal, in order for me to take control of my life. It’s not your fault that I got molested, it’s not your fault that I starved, it’s not your fault that I was physically abused. None of that is your fault mom. I know that you would never, ever, in your life allow anyone to hurt me. I know that if you could right now, you’d go back and you’d fucking kill em. I know you’d turn the world upside down for me.
I guess these are the type of experiences that we have to come across with, in order to learn the value of life its self, in order to value ourselves, and in order to protect ourselves. My experiences have mentally affected me both positively, and negatively. The mentally negative aspects of things make me human, I guess. Without cons, I’d have all pros, and no human is perfect. My issues make space for more strength, growth, and maturity, and my blessings make space for appreciation, and most of all, faith. I have faith that God will continue to bless us, and that we will get through this, and anything else in the world, together, you and I. You are my best friend.
I’m so sorry that I let you down mom. I hate that I did. I hate that I do. I hate that I hurt you. I’ve never believed in karma but I do now, because she’s caught up to me. Now I’m the one who’s hurting, and I got it bad. Reading your words tore me apart, but I’m glad I did. It has opened me up in a much needed and necessary way, and it has taught me a big, big lesson. I swear to never hurt you like that again, and I promise that it was never my intention to. I promise that only love fills our cup. I promise to try harder mom. I promise I’ll begin to treat the people I love, like I want to be loved. I promise that our trust isn’t broken. I say I don’t trust anyone, but the truth is, I do. I genuinely trust you mom. I trust you more than I trust myself, and I need you. I need you today, and every single day for the rest of my life.
I promise to work on myself mom. I promise to make you happy. I promise to make you proud. I promise to be stronger. I promise to be wiser. I promise to come closer to you. I promise to remind you everyday, how beautiful, strong, and inspiring you are. I promise to remind you everyday, how much we all need you. You created our family, you created a home for us, and you’ve also created a home in my heart, because you live in it. Without you, it’ll be a broken home. I know that in order to find a solution, I must find the root of the problem first, and I have. It’s me. It’s my ways. It’s the habits that I’ve picked up along the way of my trauma. I can’t let it define me, though. I will not let it define me. I’m not a saint but what I’ve done and said to you, is unacceptable. It’s heartless, and that’s not who I am. The devil continues to knock on my door, but it’s time I move out of his space.
I know when my anxiety kicks in, when I get nervous– that’s where I fuck up. I get so anxious that I lose control. I black out. I don’t think about any consequences, or about who’s around, or about the pain and trauma that I’m causing. I become the devils mule as I transport hate and hostility from my end, to yours. I go the fuck off, not knowing when to shut the fuck up. I don’t think about shit that I’m saying at the heat of the moment. I’m on fire, and then I go and burn you. At the time, I’m totally unaware of the all the ripping apart that I’m doing to you.
I’ve crossed the line too many times, mom, and I have to change. As my tears fall down my eyes, I pledge to you that I’m going to try harder.
I realize I’m who’s fucked up, mom. Not you. You have mastered suppression, patience, empathy, and stability. Not me. I’m so fucking unstable. I’m a ticking bomb. I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to change, and in result, I’ll end up with nobody. No wonder you said that “your trying to keep this side of me from step-dad”. I was in denial, but I’m accepting it now. I’m a poorly wired circuit. I got issues. I have to change if I want to keep you and my loved ones forever. You may be the only one that triggers me to act in the way that I do, but that doesn’t make that side of me non-existent. I want to defeat it in order to never again, hurt you or anyone else at all. I know that I can. I know that I will conquer, because who I really am, is a lover. Who I really am, is a strong ass woman. What I really am, is a perseverer. What I really am, is resilient. What I really am, is able. I’m willing and able to become the best mother, the best sister, the best cousin, the best aunt, the best friend, the best partner, the best wife, the best nurse, the best student, the best woman, and for you, the best daughter, ever. This is who I really I am, and who I really am, is your daughter. I’m just like you. The best parts of me, including my ass, I literally got it from my mamma. Maybe that’s part of the reason you have such a strong impact on me, but I won’t fight it anymore. I’ll stop trying to compete with you. I’ll stop trying to overpower you. I surrender. I’ll allow you to be the wonderful grandmother that you are, and I’ll allow you to be my mother.
Your my sweetest love.
Your daughter, Tati.