It’s been a minute
since I’ve been up here. Started school a few months ago and been putting my
focus there. What a new and exciting experience it has been to be in college
while I was nervous…extremely nervous in the beginning like anything new and different
I have become a little more comfortable with the whole concept. It definitely
has taken be to a whole other level of where I want to be in life. Still
climbing…still reaching.
Today I want to
write about forgiveness. My reason for touching on this is to demonstrate how
we CAN forgive and move on in our lives….if WE choose to. Here’s an example…Me and family…two
words that don’t truly equate. I was raise by a single mother but my dad was
still in the picture as much as he wanted to be. I never grew up with both
parents in the home. But they were there. For as long as I can remember, my
father and I were close…thick as thieves. He was the one who took me to see my
first horror movie The Shining (this is why I LOVE horror to this day), he took
me on my first trip to Disney World, he would give me what I wanted with no
questions asked. He would call or come by every birthday, if no one else said
Happy Birthday, it didn’t even matter because he did and that made my day. Now
my mother, she was there and yes she provided for me. But our relationship was
not like me and my father’s. There were no “firsts”. When I think back now I
think of my mother as always being negative. Always arguing with my father
about this and that when he would stop by to see me and him dropping of money
for me and then leaving. As a child I didn’t understand and just wanted to be
with my daddy. This went on for years. When I got older I would go to see my
father at his house which wasn’t far and we would hang out. We had fun. Just me
and my daddy :o)
As I got into
adulthood, I could see much more of the anger in my mother. She would always
say thing to me to bring me down. She would always call me out of my name, I
can’t even count the times I was called a fat bitch or how she couldn’t stand
me. Did it hurt me, in ways you could never imagine. This was an everyday thing
under her roof. She never liked any of my friends; I could never have guys over
because she was so rude to them. It was embarrassing. I remember being at a
point where I was just tired of it all. I went and found me a studio apartment
and I left home for the first time I was 20 years old. When I tell you she was
pissed. But I left anyway. I now had my own place, my own car and a decent job.
I was able to be me. Hang with my friends and be 20. Had met a guy and was
really feeling him at the time. Things were not serious but it was cool being
with him. Found out his true colors soon enough though. Come home from work to
a ransacked apartment. He took everything that was of value and bounced. Scared
of what would happen next I called my aunt who didn’t live far who of course
called my mother. My mother called me and said to get what stuff I had left and
come back home. Being scared I wasn’t looking at the “bigger picture” I packed
my stuff and back home I went. Things were cool at home.
Then a few weeks later
I found out I was pregnant. While my father was happy because he was going to
be a granddaddy, my mother’s only reply…”You are going to end up just like
Lynette” Lynette was a girl who lived next door who was fast in the ass and had
a baby in her teens. Here I am out of school and working but I’m going to be
like her?!?!? With that said my decision to keep my baby was made. I knew what
I was getting into but my mind was made up. So I went ahead and started to
prepare for the birth of my baby. I bought stuff and had the room already fixed
up. On the day I went into labor, my water broke while I was sleep. I woke up
nervous as hell. I went to tell my mother and all she said was ok and turned
over. I went and called my OB who said to get it an hour and to walk around to
get the contractions started and if the contractions had not started to call her
back. Here I was not knowing what the hell to do. My mother was knocked out
sleep. I got up and started doing stuff around the house. I cleaned my sheets,
got my bag ready, made sure my baby’s stuff was in order, you name it I did it.
After an hour, no contractions my OB said to come on in. So I called a cab and
off to the hospital I went. Who shows up a few minutes after I checked in…my
mother. Moving forward, Jasmine arrived and I was so happy to see her. She was
a beautiful baby with all the hair in the world on her head LOL. My father was
so excited to see her and from the looks of it my mother was too I guess. I got
home with her and it was just me and her. Nothing and no one else matter. Not
ever her father who had reappeared after being MIA for months. I ended up
staying at home with my mother since it was cheaper and I could focus more on
raising Jasmine. Little did I know it would definitely cost me. Time went on
and Jasmine was growing. My mother started back to her old ways. It was always
something with her. ALWAYS. She even threw me out the house one time and had
the nerve to say I couldn’t take my child with me. Huh?? I politely told her if
I’m going she is too. These shenanigans went on for quite some time. I dealt
with it because of my child.
My blessing came in the form of a Section 8
voucher that I had been on waitlist for. I had actually forgot about it because
I applied for it when I found out I was pregnant. I had Jasmine in 1991 and got
my letter in 2000. That was my ticket out! I was just laid off of work and knew
it was time to start a new life..elsewhere. After talking with Jasmine’s
godmother I made my choice to move to Atlanta. I was getting away from
everything and it felt good. So I took my first trip to the A to get my voucher
transferred and get my paperwork straight. I already had the apartment picked
out. I was so ready to go. Then I find out that my mother was going too. Um, ok
here we go with this. With boxes packed and the truck loaded, my father helped
me drive to Atlana, GA. What an interesting trip it was too. Negativity the
whole trip. Anyway I got there and got settled in. My father took the bus back
to Boston a few days later. Man I missed him but we always kept in touch. My
mother was her normal negative self the whole time she was here. It was one
thing after the other. Here I am trying to enjoy my new life in Atlanta, got a
nice job, meeting new people, even started dating. The more my mother saw that
I was independent the more controlling she got. I was locked out of my own
apartment on nights that I went out with my friends, she was playing my own
daughter against me which left our relationship strained. I just couldn’t do it
anymore. I was being manipulated by my own mother and it was affecting
everything. So I started seeing a therapist who explained to me that these
things were not about me but more about my mother and whatever her issues are.
She said that my mother uses control as a form of happiness. I was not getting
it at all, but the therapist said also that the only way to free myself was to
set boundaries. She said that I HAD to separate myself from my mother before
things get too far out of hand. I’m saying to myself is there worse than this?
At this point in my life I had met someone who I thought was the one for me. He
had seen first-hand what my mother was capable of and how she used it against
me. We had gotten engaged and it was during this time that I had to move on. So
I sat down a wrote a letter to my mother because talking was not going to work.
I could already picture the way it would play out and the hurtful words that
would be thrown my way. The letter was to the point and basically I said that
with my upcoming marriage it would be better for all of us that she not live
with me when I move to my new place. She had already said numerous times how
she hated being in Georgia and how unhappy she was so it just seemed like the
best thing to do. Oh yes and there was still name calling and I would be lying
if I didn’t say it hurt. I went from my childhood into adulthood being called
everything in the book. After a while I started believing it to be true. My
self esteem was low but I hid it well. I went on living with a lot of hurt that
no one knew of .
Fast forward to today…As I sit here writing this piece I
realize how far I’ve come. I had to let go of a lot of things and people in my
life to get to this point and I am happy that I did. Needless to say I didn’t
get married and I’m ever so thankful (that is for another post LOL) Me and
Jasmine have gotten back to where we should be and things are great. It wasn’t
easy at first but we did it. And
although me and my father had a bit of a falling out we are where we should be
too. Now me and my mother….I forgave her a long time ago. I had to in order to
clean my soul. I realize that a person will change only if they choose to. She
and my daughter have the relationship that me and her should have had it just
didn’t happen that way. I’ve made it point to better myself so that I never be
that way. I never want to be controlling, I never want to always be arguing, I
never want that in my heart. I saw how it will push people away. It did with my
father and it did with me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother…there would be
no me without her…but I have learned to love from a distance. My wish is that
she continues to maintain a healthy relationship with my daughter and never
treat her the way she did me. Because I made the choice to forgive, I am a much
happier person. No longer do I have to hide hurt.
