Like my friend Angie says, this is powerful. I can relate.
Originally posted on Pastedreams:
Until my parents die, I won’t be able to put my name publicly to our family story. Let’s say, at the very least, that my relationship with my mother is complicated. Last week I read the book “Are You My Mother?” to one of the kids I take care of and choked back tears at a completely inappropriate time, when the bird is talking to the SNORT and you’re supposed to do a funny sound effect. Fair warning—don’t read that book this week! ;) Mother’s Day is fast approaching and here’s the truth:
Some of us have abusive mothers.
Some of us have mothers who act more like children that mothers.
Some of us have neglectful mothers.
Some of us have dead mothers.
Some of us have mothers who know nothing about us.
Some of us are mothers without having been mothered.
Some of us feel like mothers who haven’t…
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