Mother Abandonment: A Letter to the Mother I Never Had
Publisher's Note: This article on mother abandonment: A Letter to the Mother I Never Had was submitted anonymously by an adult woman reflecting on the impact of child incest
on her life. In it, she reveals how she feels about the mother who failed to protect her from the sexual advances and molestation by her father. This is not for the faint of heart.
I grew up without a mother. Instead, I had a person who gave birth to me, fed and clothed me, but never took care of me. This person I called mother was never there when I needed her to comfort and protect me from the person I called father. I could not go to her and tell her about how scared I was when this person touched me inappropriately or crawled into my bed late at night.
How I wanted to cry out for help to be rescued from the continual touching and emotional pain. But I knew she would never come or see my pain and anguish. She was jealous of me and my relationship with the person I called father, so she allowed me to be treated like a lover or mistress.
For this I hate her. It would have been better off never to have had a mother. I would not have felt so alone and neglected by her. She was a child like all of us, living in fear of the monster she called husband. She never had the courage to protect us or at least take us away from him.
A mother’s number one duty is to protect and care for her children even at the risk of her own well being. But she was never a mother, even though I’m sure that she thought she was. And now I am the one taking care of her. How ironic!
Everyone else left town long ago and left me with the responsibility of her. I had to be the good little daughter, the oldest, and the one who gets along with everyone in the family. I had to balance my duties between two so-called parents who were divorced and refuse to speak to each other.
The person I called father reminds me to take good care of my mother, the one he left years ago for a much younger woman. And the person I call mother continually tells me horror stories of my abusive so-called father.
I am so sick and tired of the lifetime role I have had to play in the lives of two people who were never really parents to me. Because of them, I grew up scared, afraid, at times terrified, but most of all alone with no one to care for me.
So here I am, fifty-nine years old with two people at the end of their lives, both of whom claim to love me and cherish that I am their daughter. I am at a crossroad in my life and want to take the road that has no parents who remind me of my childhood pain and suffering.
The past cannot be erased, but the future is mine to choose. If I take the path with no parents, do I walk alone and leave behind the family who are connected to my so-called parents? I am alone with this knowledge of the past. So here I stand, wondering what to do. How do you feel about this piece. Do you have a comment or story to share from childhood?
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