When it rains it pours

She was always like this. Anyone who knew her knew that she could blow at any moment. Her anger was as a tornado in Kansas. Her kids were Dorothy. The tornado would unexpectedly appear and the kids would be sent away. The destination was just as magically as Dorothy's, only they weren't greeted by a princess coming down in a bubble. A man, their father, come to bring them safety. While in the land of Oz, they had lots of fun. However, they missed their home no matter what wrath it brought. 

One kid got it worse than all the others. If she so breathed the wrong way, she would be sent to the corner for over 2 hours. Forced to wear dippers to school and having friends was not an option. She got all A's and did 4 different activities after school. Nothing she did, however, was ever enough for her mother. She couldn't be the "perfect" daughter or fit the outrageously high standards of her older siblings. She didn't have the luxury of being the baby of the group. No matter what she was always the one to blame and her mother would admit it to anyone she saw. 

This child was different than the other 3. She loved it here in Oz. She was exhausted trying to make it back in Kansas, while the other 3 were waiting to go back. They were so easy to forgive. They knew that no matter what, she was their mother and she would get better. They hoped that by talking to her, she would somehow change. Like change was just a different way to breath. As if it is as easy as 1, 2, 3. The miracle child, as her dad called her, knew that she wouldn't change. If she did, it wouldn't be long before she fell right back in the same trap. The trap that she sets for herself. Perhaps to find sympathy or some free handouts when she could. She wants everyone to know that their is nothing wrong with her. 

The miracle child began to thrive. She was fed, cleaned, and loved unconditionally. She started to realize that the problem was never with her. The problem was with her instincts to trust. She was too trusting and naïve. That would never change and she didn't want it to. It makes her her. It makes her unique and teaches her to grow when people misuse her kindness. After all, don't all good stories have a kind soul as the main character. 

She decided that it was time to visit Kansas once again. It was time to face her mother and simply ask her, "Why?". Why do you hate me? Why did you abandon me? Why did you treat me like this? She realized that she wasn't asking the right questions. The problem wasn't with the questions, rather who they were directed at. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and asked herself. Why did you let her hate you? Why did you let her absence make you feel bad towards yourself? Why did you let her words and actions get to you? After all, she is your mother. That is the woman who gave birth to you, bringing you into this world. She is your mother, but not a mom. A mother is, by definition, the woman who "gives birth to" a child. A mom is someone who "loves her child unconditionally, puts their needs before their own, never hurts the child, and brings a safe environment". She is not a mom to her.

Over the years, she tried to reach out to her mother. Birthdays and Christmas's pass by without a word. She would try all her might to get her mother to talk to her. Instead, her mother took to Facebook once again turning everyone against the miracle child. It was a horrible cycle, where it seemed the only joy went to the mother who was getting all this support that was based off of false news. Graduation came around and the mother was invited. Thanks to COVID only 2 people were allowed to go, which were the dad and grandma. The two primary sources of love and acceptance over the past 18 years. The mother declined the offer after being uninvited to a nonexistent graduation party. She then took to Facebook to let everyone know, once again, that her daughter was in fact, "The Devil reincarnated". 

You may ask how I know so much about this miracle child. How I can be so invested in her life. As you might have guessed, I am that child. I am known to many doctors and family members as the "Miracle Child". I was born 3 months early in a car accident. I was only 2 pounds and completely blue. I wasn't getting enough circulation and I was only given the night to live. Three months later I was being discharged from the hospital totally healthy, hint the name "Miracle Child". Unsurprisingly my mom refused to hold me. She refused to see me or even acknowledge that I was her child. I understand the grief, but after three months you should be celebrating that your child is alive. Some people don't get that gift. 

I knew after my graduation a couple of months ago that I needed to make amends with a mistake that had been made. Not the mistake of my mother after all the horrible things she had done to me. Not for all the pain and rumors' she had given me. I didn't even have to make amends with my mother for anything. I had to make amends with myself. I had to understand that the mistake I made was thinking she was going to change. I had this little voice in the back of my head just saying, "If you give her another chance, she will change". The foolish part was that I actually started to believe it. I felt that she needed to be in my life because she gave me life. That was the exact reason she had to leave. She gave me a life that was not fair or right. She gave me a life that was cruel and horrible. She gave me a chance to make myself a better person. 

While she will always be my mother, I know that she has no place in my life. All she brings is pain and misery. She taught me the love that I truly deserve. She taught me that it is okay to just be me. I guess I taught myself that too.