Mom is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s kind, selfless, and will do anything for anyone. So I feel guilty saying that she wasn’t the best mom. I guess her perception of me was constantly changing. Maybe I reminded her of my dad, maybe my being alive was the one thing that ruined her life or made it harder for her. I blame myself everyday for that.

My mother is a hard worker and she did everything possible to give me what I needed. She made sure I went to school, made sure to keep a roof over my head and that I had food to eat and adults to watch over me. We never spoke about anything important. She never taught me anything. I know it may seem very trivial but she never taught me about periods, or sex, or how to wash clothes, cook, how to comb my hair, or any thing else that parents usually teach children. I never got to play with toys. I wasn’t allowed. It’s when I think of that that I start to get mad.

I was a smart kid. And that’s probably because since I wasn’t allowed to play with toys, the one thing I could do was read, and write, and watch TV. I learned alot about relationships and vocabulary on TV. I had a huge imagination. I wrote alot of stories, all versions of my life I guess.

I remember always having this need to be loved and accepted by people. Existence was pretty lonely and watching family shows on TV where people had others to count on was something that gave me hope. One day, I used to tell myself. “One day I’ll find my people.” Every time I attempted to speak to my mother about anything I’d get in trouble. If I attempted to talk about any weird feelings about a boy, she’d say, “no boys!” And that was it. So I was left to figure things out on my own.

I feel stupid mostly. It’s embarrassing to not know how certain things are done. People have asked me questions in the past about why I don’t know how to do simple things and it upsets me. It’s a reminder of just how much I was neglected. It’s not fair.

I do love my mom. I understand her much more now but there are just things that can never be forgotten. Words hurt…especially from people you love. My mom would do anything for me but it’s the bad stuff that sticks. My mother told me I was an accident…I should’ve never been born. She said this out of anger but those words never left. That’s pretty much when I decided I shouldn’t be here. That’s when I knew i would never be loved…truely and unconditionally. Why? Because I wasn’t worthy. There’s something so incredibly wrong with me that even my own mother didn’t think I deserved to be here. So for the first time in my life, I really contemplated suicide.