This year, I’m absolutely dreading Mother’s Day. As it approaches, I find myself becoming moody and withdrawn. Honestly, I would really love to just stay in bed all day, watching movies which have nothing whatsoever to do with mothers.
Don’t get me wrong – I love that there is a day set aside where I can tell my mother how much I love and appreciate her. I quite literally have the best mother in the world. I will get up on Mother’s Day morning to celebrate her.
However, there will be no celebration of my motherhood that day.
I used to say that I never regretted getting married. It was because of my marriage that I had my son. Had I not told him I was pregnant and absconded with our daughter, I never would have had my son.
Now, I wish that is exactly what I had done. Had I taken her away and raised her on my own, he never would have tainted her against me, and I wouldn’t know the pain of two children turning their backs on me. I absolutely regret marrying him, which saddens me.
My ex has turned my children against me, telling them all sorts of disgusting lies about me so they now want nothing to do with me (they literally believe that I never held my daughter when she was an infant). There’s no way for me to know all of the filthy things he’s told them, but he is such a talented liar that they really have no choice but to believe him.
As such, I haven’t had contact with my children in a very long time, and that’s not about to change any time soon. Honestly, the only way I can see my children ever talking to me again is if he dies. And he’s one of those stubborn old bastards who will live longer than the rest of us, so I’ve given up on ever seeing my children again, let alone getting to know any grandchildren I may have.
For the most part, I’m okay with it. I’ve accepted it for what it is. Why cry over spilled milk, right?
I think the hardest part is fearing the obligatory text on Mother’s Day. I’m guessing that my son will text me on Sunday to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. To me, that would be far worse than receiving no acknowledgement at all. I mean – if you don’t ever talk to me, you obviously don’t respect or care about me as your mother. Why send over some generic words which mean nothing to you? Why waste either of our time?
I guess I need to get over myself.
I’m going to go make a couple of Mother’s Day cards, now (one for each of the mothers in my life). At least I understand love and respect and want to give it where it’s due.
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