Carol Frye
Preface:
I felt like I wanted a letter from my narcissistic mother, in which she acknowledged what she did. So I wrote this.
This exercise was therapeutic for me because I feel like she should have written this to me. The reality is she never would.
My Precious Daughter,
There are so many things I never told you when I had a relationship with you. Estrangement was your choice, and respecting that, I won’t say this to you in person. Still, I want you to know what I could never say before. I know it’s too little, too late, and our relationship is over. There is nothing I could write that would repair all the damage I inflicted, and you, my precious girl, deserve healing by whatever methods you choose.
When you were 19, and diagnosed with permanent infertility, you were right in your decision to not tell me all the details immediately. I didn’t have the wisdom then or any time after to tell you that a childless life could be a good life. Honestly, if I had been given your diagnosis when I was 19, I would have been unable to cope with it. I know I would have been so devastated I would have probably been suicidal. I saw a strength in your spirit I never had, but because I never understood it or you, I used my words to disrespect you and your destiny so many times. I was so much less than who you needed me to be, and you and your love was so much more than what I deserved.
I said I loved you, precious girl, but you knew the truth. My love and favor was reserved for your sisters because they gave me grandchildren. I could relate to your sisters, but never you, and this was so unfair to you. I excluded you from our society on purpose because of your infertility, and taught your sisters to do likewise. We even excluded you during family events, acting as if you weren’t there when you chose to be present. These transgressions were cruel and hateful, very deserving of the estrangement you enforced. I never believed a time might come when your siblings and I could no longer abuse you, disrespect you, and take you for granted, but you decided you had enough, and let us know, and cut us off. That could not have been easy, because you loved us.
I gave you the book “I Kissed Dating Goodbye” during your teen years because I believed courtship to be the best way for you to approach marriage. I never asked you whether you felt comfortable with it, because your opinion didn’t matter to me. You were right to exclude me from both of your weddings, because you knew I wouldn’t understand you or your choices and would have tried to talk you out of doing what made you happy. You needed my support, not my condemnation, and you only got it by presenting your husbands to me after you married them. I regret never earning enough of your trust that would have admitted me into your confidence prior to your weddings, but not enough to change my behavior toward you.
I acknowledge that you gave me a chance to save our relationship, once during counseling, again with a letter. You tried so hard to stay in a relationship with me, even though I gave you so many reasons to exit long before you did. You were never the problem, precious girl, although I tried to convince you otherwise. I never could own my errors, so when you told me how my choices negatively impacted you, I tried to convince you that you misunderstood, so many times. There is every possibility that I was the one who misunderstood and underestimated you.
You were a delight, precious girl. I never told you that your unique culinary experiments, your gift for writing, your quirky sense of humor that made me laugh, your help with your siblings, your love for music, your independence, your sense of who you are, your honesty about your widowhood grief, infertility grief, and your desire to conduct your life different from mine – all of it was so precious. I never valued or esteemed you, nor would I, even if you offered me another chance.
You have upgraded your life with pen pals who enrich your life far more than your sisters and I ever did, and I love that for you. Do more of what makes you happy, precious girl. You deserve it.
Sincerely,
Your Mom
