I am so much more than what my mum did to me, I am so much more than the child she left behind and I know this - so I guess this is just my battle to remind myself and reconfigure myself every single day, no big deal right? It’s not something I am knowingly doing, it’s just there - a whisper in the background as I’m getting on with my life that says “psssst your mums alive somewhere and she left you”
It’s not getting easier, despite all the empathy I manage to muster up for her - because leaving your child behind whatever the reason, is not something easily done or lightly done. Yes the act itself felt like it, she left me at my dad’s doorstep in my pink coat like it was nothing, but I know it was everything - whatever that looked like for her. We’re 22 years in now, and it’s a waiting game - I am just waiting for the call to come one day to tell me that she isn’t well or is dying or has died, will I go to her then? I don’t know. I can’t grieve whilst she’s still here somewhere. I can’t move on mentally even though my life and body keeps moving on.
I see how safe my daughter feels with me, I feel and see how much she needs me - so yes, the gravity of what my mum did in leaving me is no light freight. The act itself was so cruel. I never said goodbye, I didn’t know it was goodbye.
On another day, where the load doesn’t feel so heavy to carry, i might feel for empathy for her - but not today.
Let’s just talk about it.













