Today is my 31st birthday…it’s supposed to be a day of celebration, a day of thanks. I made it to see another year. Typically, I celebrate my birthday to the fullest. I am just so happy that I have been blessed with another year of life. I was up so incredibly early this morning, and I spent time writing this beautiful post about transition and happiness and the love that I have from friends and family.
Instead, I spent the better part of the morning sitting in my car in the parking garage at work crying my eyes out.
As you know, my mother and I have always had a tumultuous relationship. I feel as though sometimes she blames me for everything that has gone wrong in her life, whatever that is. When she lived here in New Jersey, she would bring me to tears on a regular basis with the things she would say to me and the way she would treat me. It’s truly been a blessed six months since she left and moved out of state.
This morning, she called me to wish me a Happy Birthday and I was actually glad to hear from her. I was within minutes from my job so I hoped that the conversation would be quick and stay positive. The conversation started well with her reminiscing about the day I was born, but then it quickly went south. She immediately started to talk about the experience she had with my father when she was pregnant. Although not positive, I would have hoped that after 31 years, she would learn to forgive and let go. You never forget, I know that, but I would hope that she could let this go.
The conversation then switched to the pain and suffering that I caused her while she was pregnant with me. She told me that I was 2 weeks overdue and that she had never suffered with her other children – only with me. Then, the conversation really started to go downhill. She told me that I have caused her nothing but misery and pain in my 31 years and that she loves me with every fiber of her being, but she knows that I don’t love her the same if at all. She said that I should help her financially since she suffered so much with me. Sometimes she goes without and although she understands that I’m struggling, I shouldn’t have her struggle too. I should give my last to her if that’s what she needs. She told me that I didn’t love Micah because I don’t love her, because I would do for her as I do for Micah. Instead, I just cause her heartache and pain every time she thinks of the situation.
She told me that I’m going through the same thing with Micah’s father as she went through with my father as punishment for not remembering the sacrifices that she has made for me and for not loving her. She even said that Micah would do the same to me as I have done to her; he would also cause me heartache and pain at every turn.
And to end the conversation, she said that she doesn’t want to ruin my day so she will let me go. I told her that she already has, and she responded that I can’t blame her for me making her tell the truth. She says that she is telling me all of this so I can remember what I did to her and appreciate her more than I do now.
I didn’t say a word…I just couldn’t speak. I really wonder sometimes if my mom sees me as a thorn in her side. I really believe that she doesn’t give a crap about me unless I’m handing over money to her whenever she reaches out her hand. Although she claims to love me, I don’t believe that she really does. Because a mother, in my opinion, should never say these things to their child. A mother should be proud of their child, lift them up when they need it, and be the shoulder to cry on when you need it. Although she gave birth to me, I don’t see my mother as my mom. And that hurts me to my core…
I cried and I cried in the car after I go off the phone with her. Then, I called my friend Titi and I poured my eyes out some more. And after I got off the phone with her, I just sat and drained all of my sadness and cried some more. Then, I became angry and started hitting the steering wheel over and over until it started to hurt, so the pain could be as much physical as emotional. And when I was finally spent, I packed up everything and made my way into the office. I hoped and prayed that no one would remember it was my birthday because I knew that I would start crying all over again. I just want this day to be over at this point. I have just lost my motivation to be happy on my birthday.
I worry about and for Micah…I worry that I will pass on these horrible tendencies to him and release my anger and frustration on him the way my mom does to me. I worry that I will treat my son the same way that she treats me. I pray every day that I can break the cycle of hurt and pain with me and provide all the love and affection that I have in my heart to that little boy because he deserves that and so much more. And I pray that one day my mom will be able to forgive me for everything I so obviously have done to her to make her life so completely miserable. I pray that I will learn how to stop being phased by all of this and live my life.
