You left. You made the choice to walk out the door and not turn back. You took my soul and broke it. You were supposed to support me. You were supposed to be by my side. You were my parent. You were my mom, and you broke me.
I’ve watched my siblings struggle to understand it just as fiercely as I have tried. I watched my father stand taller than a tree in his role as single parent. I have seen my family and friends try to fill the void that you created. The truth is though, we will never understand, and the void will always be there in some capacity.
I respect your struggles. I acknowledge that at some point, you have to put yourself first. What I refuse to accept is that cutting off your children accomplishes self-growth or development. Lying about your children does not make you whole or centred. It does not make you better, it makes you bitter and makes everyone else broken.
Now, do not get me wrong. I am fine. It took a while, but I am strong, loving, and concrete despite you, not because of you. I have turned the slamming door in my face into a new entrance for love and support. There’s my dad. Words fail to accurately describe him, but he’s excellent, loving, present, and fabulous. I watched my sister become an amazing mom despite our example, and my breath has escaped me ever since. I watch my brother be the most forgiving man, because that’s how he coped with you leaving. We all took our broken pieces and created beautiful vases blooming with flowers.
These people are the only ones that truly understand what happened, and for surviving this, they will always be my heroes. My siblings are honest, supportive, understanding, and flawed. I love every ounce of them. They are the ones that stood on the battlefield with me. They fought the fight and we walked out together, arms linked and hearts united. My father stayed. You don’t hear that too often, but man, has he been present. Through every step of it, he’s been there. He became my best friend, and his pedestal is higher than anyone I have seen because he deserves every ounce of love, praise, appreciation, and attention in the world for what he did.
I continue to grow up without a mom and will do this for the entirety of my life. I cannot change the past, regardless of how much it changed me. My life would be so different if I had not been broken. However, if you stayed, then it would not have been my story, and for that I thank you. You broke me, mom, and together our family repaired that brokenness and created strong humans that will make the world a better place.
So thank you. Thank you for putting yourself first. Thank you for breaking me. Thank you for giving me the freedom to be who I am today. My past no longer creates cracks. My past is super glue, and my future shines through like stained glass—beautiful, imperfect, and mine. Yes, you broke me, but I fixed me, and that is the past I choose to show. The repaired and unique me.