Some people asked me why I need to leave my mother’s house.
She was a fragile woman.
Alone and old.
I should have taken care of her while I can.

The truth is, sometimes I love her.
But most of the times…
all I remember is how she kicked me in the shin
that left a wound for months.
How she, while I’m sick from tuberculosis,
dragged me outside the house
because I don’t have the appetite to eat.
The neighbors had to beg for me.
The neighbors gave me sympathy that my mother refused to give out of anger.

I was only a child.

The truth is, she is an amazing woman for a few days.
But she is a whole different monster if you overstayed.

Is it bad to hold grudges?
For 25 years, I was the emotional punching bag of a sad woman.
And now people asks me why I need to leave my mother alone.

If I don’t leave,
If by the grace of gods I stayed with her,
everyday will be a constant reliving of memories I have tried so hard to bury.
Everyday,
my hate will grow larger than what I can contain.

Everyday I will wish she was dead.

People don’t like it when I tell them this.
They say something along the lines of they hope my kid won’t do this to me.
Or that I didn’t have any gratitude for my own mother.
For raising me alone.
For sacrificing her happiness.

Is it okay to be thankful but not want to be around that person?
Why do I need to be punished for my mother’s small jabs of abuse?
Isn’t healing my inner child
and trying to get the courage to leave
enough of a punishment?

I am pregnant now.
I will try my best to not be like my mother.
To not be full of rage.
My kids will not have to tiptoe around my emotions.
I will create a home that’s

forgiving,
welcoming,
kind.

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

I will shield them from the shadows that haunted me for 30 years.

The abuse ends with me.

The abuse ends with me.