When I was 15 years old, my mother, her boyfriend and my little sister, packed the things they could, into an old car and headed to the great promise land of Alberta. My mother and I butted heads during my teen years, she thought I was out of control, when really I just wanted her attention and was acting out because of the childhood I endured. Abused, physically and mentally by my step father. Abused physically, mentally and sexually by my step brother. I was mad. My mother and I had got into an argument which lead to me packing a bag and heading to her sister’s until I could bear to talk to her. This is when she decided they were going to be moving. She let people go through our house and take what they wanted and I barely even got to say goodbye. I was devastated for months. Crying at holidays. Whenever I felt like I needed her, she wasn’t there. It took me a few years to forgive her but I needed to do it for myself.
So after forgiving her when I was 21, she came for her first visit. And I wanted her attention so much I packed my things and moved across the country. At this point she was still with her boyfriend she left for AB with. After a couple of months, they split up. He returned one day for a piece of his property, so I gave it to him. According to my mother, I betrayed her, and was untrustworthy, so while working at a bar one night she called me to inform me my things were packed and she was done with me.
How do you ever get over the one person in your life who is supposed to accept you and love you no matter what? It has created more issues for me than I thought I could handle. Issues that turned out to be blessings.
If my mother was there for me over the last 15 years, I would be a different person. I am thankul every day that I am strong, stubborn and independent and wise beyond my years. If I never endured all the painfull things I went through, and the moments I thought I would never get through on my own, and if I never had to truly feel what a brokrn heart was, I wouldn’t be the mother I am to my kids, and I am very thankful for that.
It is still hard, knowing my mother is across the country, and she is just a text away, yet she barely responds to me. I thought it was me, my fault, that I have been doing something wrong forever, but it is not me. It is her. It is her choice to not have a relationship with me. It is her choice to not be there for me when I need her. It is her choice. And when you are able to accept that you are responsible for the choice whether to forgive or not, you have to make it and move on.