I know I make you crazy sometimes.
And I know that you get so mad at me, but then almost immediately
feel guilty about it.
Moms are really good at making you feel guilty.
But if we can't hold your anger, it's only because we haven't
healed from ours.
Your anger scares me.
It makes me think I'm a bad mom, that
I did a bad job.
And the thought of failing you is too painful,
so I turn your emotions around and make you think there is
something wrong with you for being angry.
Instead of hearing your anger and allowing you to have your own experience,
I want to control it, I want you to feel soft towards me, so I remind you
of how hard I've had it and that no one is perfect and I point
out all of the sacrifices I've made for you.
I'm too afraid to see any damage I did, because I love you
so much and I can't undo any of it and when I do start to peek
at the ways I may have hurt you, the guilt blinds me and the ground
beneath me starts to shake and I do anything to try and
claw my out
There is no one to hold my pain, and that's why I cannot hold yours.
But that doesn't mean your pain is too much.
It just means I wasn't ever going to be the one who could see it.
I am truly sorry for that.
I wish I could have. I wish I'd had the emotional strength to
validate your anger, to not take it so personal, to not manipulate
you into feeling sorry for me.
If I could hold your heart now I would tell you,
it's OK to be angry. It's OK to feel disappointed and
frustrated and like you didn't get what you needed.
It's also OK that I failed you.
I was never going to be able to love you perfectly.
There is enough grace for BOTH of us.
Enough for your anger, enough for my shortcomings,
and enough to fill you up in all the ways I couldn't.
So go ahead and scream and cry and tell me how unfair
it was when I did that to you. Tell me the things you needed that
you didn't get from me. Tell me all the ways I didn't see you and couldn't
hear you. Tell me the things that hurt you.
I can hear it now. I want you to be free.
And I also know that underneath it all,
you love me, otherwise it wouldn't hurt so bad.
It's OK, baby. It's OK.