A Letter to My Mother That She Will Never Read
I'm writing this letter to help me identify what I'm feeling. I have no intention you'll ever read this.
I know you love me. You say you do. But I don't feel it sometimes.
I remember you didn't show up for my college graduation because the dog was sick. But now that dog is dead, and I'm still here.
You do things for me, and expect me to say thank you. But did you think to ask if that was what I wanted?
I think back on my life. Our relationship. I've always felt inadequate. You always wanted me to be better or more. Or maybe I have it wrong. I always felt under your control. If I didn't do something you liked, I knew it – but not immediately. I'd get the silent treatment, the terse responses. As if you were angry but I didn't know why.
What did I do to you? Why wasn't I enough.
I think about the relationships I'm trying to have with women. I feel this instinctual withdrawal. I want to pull away because I feel like they're draining, like they want me to do something but won't say what. I wonder if that comes from you.
I feel resentment, but would never say it. If I did, I'd be blamed for being ungrateful. And so I stay silent.
You make me food when I come over. I know it's a gesture of love. But you're part of this too. Our relationship doesn't feel healthy. It feels transactional. I can't just do what I want and feel supported. I have to do what you want and not complain.
It's eating me inside and I don't think it's tenable. Sometimes I don't even know who I am. I don't know what I like. Because I'm trying to be someone you want me to be instead of who I might otherwise become.
A lot of people my age are going no contact with family. I understand why. It is challenging to heal in the environment that caused the wounds. But that's not my intention. I want to heal and I want to make things right. It takes two people to make that work. But I've never heard you say, 'I'm sorry.'
If I speak up, I end up hurting you. If I don't, I hurt myself. So where does that leave me? I'm left with an impossible decision.
Can't you see I'm trying? I have this aversion to getting emotionally close with women, and I resent you for that. How do we fix this?
But if you do read this, please know I'm trying to become the man I want to be. And that task is all the more difficult if you keep me in that box. Keep me as the good little boy you wanted.
No more.
I'm a man now. I can make my own decisions. You can disagree with those decisions and that's fine. No need to shame me for them. I'm not even talking about big life decisions. I'm talking about things that don't matter. Maybe I will just shave my head. I know you'll hate it.
Tell me that you're sorry. Tell me that you love me. Don't make it conditional. I struggle enough with women. I know you'll want to dismiss my thoughts and feelings. Please avoid the temptation to do so.
Is it really that hard to love me?
The Art of Being Straight
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