-Samantha, Marin
Forgiveness. I always wish I knew how to forgive, truly forgive. My biological mother just came back into my life recently. For the first time since I was five years old, I hadn’t seen or heard anything about her since then.
I was scared of her to say the least. She exposed me to things no child should ever be exposed to at that age. No person or child should ever, I mean never, be exposed to what she did. She ruined my childhood. I never will be able to really be a kid.
At six years old, I was in therapy being diagnosed with PTSD. I couldn’t sleep without having nightmares. I was scared to sleep. I was so malnourished that I had to take supplements so I could be a normal kid. She ruined me.
When she texted, she called me her daughter. It felt so wrong. She’s not my mom. Never will be. She said she was sorry for what she did to me when I was a kid. I couldn’t even respond. I asked her if she did what she did and she said no. I haven’t talked to her since.
I don’t have to forgive her. I can live my life. I don’t have to call her my mom. She’s not. I don’t ever have to forgive her, but I can coexist with her. Just because I don’t forgive her doesn’t mean I can’t live my life. She doesn’t have an effect on me. Not anymore.