Dear girls,
I hope this letter finds you both healthy, happy, and thriving, wherever your individual and collective paths are taking you. This isn’t meant to intrude, nor to ask anything of you, but simply to reach out with honesty as your mother.
I’m sending this message to both of you on purpose. Maybe you’ll bond over it and align against me, maybe you’ll delete it, or maybe you’ll use it for self-reflection. Up to you.
These past weeks, actually months, of your rejection of me (and that’s exactly what it is), have been painful, but have also given me time to reflect on the kind of mother and person I’ve been . . . and am. I realize that, while I’m not perfect, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I can lay my head on my pillow every night knowing I was the best person I knew how to be with the tools, knowledge, and information at my disposal. I apologize for the inevitable mistakes I’ve made based on my humanness, but never have I ever done anything malicious or from anywhere but a place of love. For all your lives, I’ve given you both my whole heart—every inch of it—and have been where you needed me when you needed me to be there. When you wanted me to be involved, I was there; when you wanted to be independent, I stayed in the background. As you got older, I tried to refrain from giving my opinion or inserting myself unless given permission. If the phone pinged, I answered—to your texts, phone calls, emails . . . whether it was for a light conversation or a resume edit or a crying session. I.WAS.THERE.
Now you have shut me out of your lives. I.AM.OUT. Without warning—you slammed the door in my face. I don’t know why; only you do. There’s a loud silence between us now—the door is locked and I’m on the wrong side. This situation is very painful for me, and time isn’t making it better. Yet, as desperately as I miss you, I recognize that my own well-being—my physical, mental, and emotional health—requires my attention.
In this apparent and unsolicited new phase of my life, I’m giving myself permission to turn inward, to care for myself with the same compassion and acceptance I’ve always given you. I’ve realized that I get a voice here. My thoughts, feelings, and opinions are valid and important—just as yours are. If something makes me uncomfortable or doesn’t serve me, I hold the right to express it without “punishment.” I don’t need your approval, nor do I need to always tailor my words or “walk on eggshells.” You’re my family and I should feel comfortable being myself. I’ve accepted things from both of you that I didn’t agree with simply out of love for you. I am entitled to get the same in return.
I wish you fulfillment and peace as you move forward in the world. For now, I’ll step back and say so long, holding on to the hope that you’re living meaningful and happy lives, and that my absence helps you achieve that.
Love,
Mom