The interesting thing about families is that they can be functional or dysfunctional, just like any other relationship. Within those families, there are many different point of views on many different subjects. Usually in a family, the children look up to their parents for help and support, they look up because it is better than looking down.
Parents all over the world, for centuries, have tried to keep their children close, to protect them, to nurture them. However, there are some parents who do not feel that way. These parents just want their child out of their life so much that they resort to disowning the child. These parents have their own ideas of perfection and take it to an extreme to the point of disowning another family member without much conscience and further thought.
Parents, or people, can come up with just about any reason to disown someone. Some reasons can almost be justified. For example if a child was a alcoholic druggie and the parent couldn’t stand the sight of that child hurting themselves anymore, the parent might disown him or her.
Some come to the point that if their children make a choice as minor as it might be, and they don't agree with it, out they go. Such as if a child did not agree with being texted at six o’clock in the morning, being expected to answer while she was visiting her father because her parents were divorced.
That was what happened to me.
My parents divorced almost ten years ago due to my mother’s behavior towards my father. Immediately, my mother found someone else, someone who was already waiting in the back wings for the document to be legal. A month after the divorce was final, my mother moved my sister and I into his condo.
I was only a child then, still in fourth grade, only 9 years old and of course I believed all the lies my mother and her boyfriend told me about my father. What was I to do, I loved my mother. I believed my mother.
Over the years I got used to life of seeing my father only every other weekend, not being able to call him because my mother told me not to. Not answering the phone when he called because she would threaten me with idiotic punishments.
Close to three years ago, a few days before my 16th birthday, everything came crashing down, buildings of confidence and self esteem that I had been building for years, crumbled. My life was once again in ruins.
My mother had disowned me.
I had only not answered a text while I was visiting my father. Not answering that text created an argument, that argument created tension and discourse. My sister chose sides, she chose my mother. I chose myself.
My mother didn’t tell me outright that I was disowned, she wasn’t even the one to tell me. I thought she was joking when she told me on the phone that I was not to come home, it had happened before, and I had expected it to happen again.
I went back to the house, my father driving my sister and I home like he always did after a weekend visit. They let my sister in. They barred me from entering. My mother couldn’t even face me, she sent her boyfriend out to do the dirty work. I treated him like a step father, he treated me like a stray cat.
“Turn around now before your father drives away,” he had begun, “You are no longer welcome here.”
I went to my new home with my dad, feeling hurt, rejected, angry, sad. I didn’t even cry that night. I didn’t cry until my mother called me at school a few days later.
“All your stuff is on the porch,” she had said, “Come get it on Saturday. Also I took all of your money from your bank account. You don’t deserve it.”
I cried then, in class, with friends and my teacher there. I now knew it was real, I had heard the conviction in her voice. She no longer wanted me. I felt she no longer loved me. Her voice had told me everything.
That Saturday, I collected my stuff. She took anything she wanted, anything worth money, my guitar, my DS, a bath robe she had wanted. The bags my clothes were in had garbage included. She had taken over a thousand dollars from my bank, money that had been given to me for birthday’s, Christmases. Money that was not hers to take.
I no longer believe her, I no longer see her. Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil. She is but a ghost I have mixed feelings for. I still love her, she is my mother, and she took care of me. I no longer like her. She’s like a leech, sucking everything from me until nothing is left.
She left me but a husk to reanimate. She left me nothing but ashes to be reborn from. She left me nothing but emotions and memories, both almost destroyed me. They would have destroyed me if it were not for my dad and step mom and grandmother. The saved me. They rebuilt me. They love me.
In psychology there is a saying that goes along the lines of “From the moment a child is born it becomes a close rival to its parent. They love each other the most but they are also fearful of each other.” I have overcome my mother, I will not let her be a road block anymore, instead she is just a hole in the road, a road I have passed. Now I can look forward, towards where those I love are helping me to lay bricks beneath my feet, to keep me from falling, to help me towards my future. These are the people I look toward.