Sometimes I look at Melody and I feel envy. She's going to have a relationship with her mother. Her mother is going to teach her how to curl her hair (or straighten it in her case, the jerk, what business does a two-year-old have having perfect curls), she's going to teach her how to put eyeliner on and how to highlight her perfect blue eyes. Her mother is going to sit her down and tell her boys are trash, but sometimes you find an amazing one. She's going to teach her to not "just settle" for male attention. She's going to shower her with affection even when she goes through her teen years and wants nothing to do with me.
I'm jealous.
Because I didn't have that.
I can count on one hand how many hugs I received from my mother. Her "I love you"s were compulsory. But as much resentment as I have for the relationship I never had I can't really blame her. She had to deal with the abuse from my grandmother for a lot longer than I did and something just shut off inside her. Maybe as a defense mechanism? I'm not sure. But she never showed me much affection. We never really had a bond either.
She never really stood up for me. Whenever my grandmother went off on one of her abusive tangents she would either slink back and be a bystander or agree with what my grandmother was saying. I never felt like she had my back. So I grew up with a "me against the world" mentality.
It didn't really help that she always put her boyfriends before me, she would have men over all the time while I was sleeping in the next room. No care that I was a young female child and these men weren't the most upstanding. I never really felt like a priority to her only a second thought.
She would also introduce these men as my new daddy even if they were only dating for a month or two. I can't even count how many men were introduced to me in that way.
But my issues with my mother didn't stem from my childhood. But rather when I was pregnant with my daughter. I have been living on my own for years at this point. Trying to keep communication open with my mother, and try to mend that bond. So I called her and I told her she was going to be a Nana. She was excited asking me questions about my pregnancy. All well and fine. I invited her to my baby shower, no show. A million excuses why she couldn't. After Melody was born I got a Facebook message saying how she was hurt I didn't ask her to be in the room. I didn't dignify that with a response. I still kept communication open for Melody's sake. So she can know her grandmother. At this point, she had still yet to meet Melody. Always giving excuses. Like she has no ride, no days off that work for her, etc. But then I see a Facebook post of her with her current dick of the week and pictures of her with his newborn grandchild (mind you, he lives about an hour away from her, and I live 45 minutes away) calling this newborn her grandchild.
That caused something in me to snap. I told her Melody doesn't deserve this. That she deserves to be around people who love and adore her. I then block her and go no contact.
A few months later, as we're all planning her birthday party, I start to feel bad. It's not her fault she is the way she is. So I decided to give her another chance. I sent her a letter and a few pictures of Melody. I tell her the date of the party so she has ample time to plan. But I gave her an ultimatum. She either shows up and meets her grandchild or I'm done. I will no longer extend my hand and force a relationship. My saint of an aunt even offers to go down to Somerville and bring her up to Nashua.
So it's the day of the party.
No show.
I have not spoken to her or given her any information on Melody since that day. But she has stolen pictures of Melody off of my aunt's Facebook.
I have no resentment really. Just relief that Melody won't understand that kind of dysfunction.
All I've really learned from having a mother like her is that Melody will get sick of being hugged. She will get embarrassed when I yell I love you as she's walking into school. I will know what her favorite color is, what her favorite book is, and why it's her favorite book. I will know what song makes her heart soar. She will not experience 60 different men coming in and out of her life. I will one day, far in the future, sit her down and have the sex talk and I'll bring up birth control, and how it's important. I will teach her how to do her makeup, and which way to curl her hair so it frames her face. I will help her find her voice, so no one dares make her feel less than. She will be celebrated and heard.
I refuse to allow my daughter to have an absent mother.
She deserves so much better than that.
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