It's difficult. It's complicated. But I wouldn't change what I have for the world.
My Mom. The woman of my life, who tells me right from wrong, who taught me true beauty, and who tells me tales of true love and the struggles that come before it. She is practically my other half, she has made me the woman that I am today.
But she faces pain that daily, a pain that can't make go away with a bandage. Not even with all the love and affection in your heart can make this pain stop. It isn't my fault, but I feel ridiculous asking how she is each day. She's "fine". But she's not, she's just used to the struggle. My asking everyday is just to show that I care, since I can't put a bandage on it, or I can't plead for forgiveness for pain I've caused. Cause it's not a scratch, it's not emotional pain. I don't know what it is, but I wish it'd go away. All I can do is make her life a little easier, but then I even fail at that.
There is an underlying pain I carry, that doesn't surface too often but it does it's like a knife. I am not her daughter. Crazy, right? By blood, I am not her daughter. But we have the strongest relationship a mother and daughter could have. When I hear, how she didn't give birth to me, out of anyone else's mouth it's nothing. But when I hear it from her, that's when it hurts. I want so bad for her to be my blood mom sometimes. Believing it would make us all the closer. Knowing that there wasn't that moment in the hospital where they hand me over to her, crying as I am tasting air for the first time, her crying, seeing her new born daughter that she's been carrying around for nine months. Hair sticking to her sweaty forehead knowing looks don't matter. Cause that bond is so strong. We didn't have that moment. Sometimes we like to believe we did. She came into my life willingly, and I came into hers unknowingly. I merely adopted a mom and she gained another daughter. Sometimes, that bond is stronger. She didn't have to give me all her love, raise me as her own, teach me lessons through the mistakes. I didn't have to call her mom, I didn't have to respect her as a parent, I didn't have to share my heartache with boys. I can only wish that I can truly call her mine, because I love her like she is. I love her so much, that my heart hurts with hers, I cry when she cries, I hurt after I've accidentally hurt her. And I hate asking if she's okay when I know she's not.
She, is my mom. I refuse to believe she is my step mom. I just have to take the knife out every time I hear how she didn't give birth to me. It's not so much a knife as it feels like a wall I can't get through. But I know that everything I am, is her. The love I know, is her.
I love you Mom.
