Dear Mom,

Or Pam, I suppose.

Enabling the lowest of my lows.

Do you remember me? Is it the memory or the idea?

Cheap wonder bread and ham, cool kids who couldn't care less.

A childhood spent in an abusive mess.

But it wasn't only that. It was also pain.

See, you never cared. A true cool kid, if you will.

Too young too soon, your own humanity was slain.

Took it out on your own kids, you cool kid.

Took it out on me, took it out on him, took it out on all of us.

Do you remember? Because I do, I did.

I remember hot summer nights with the sticky sweet of mango juice 

Clinging to me, as I wished to cling to you.

I remember starvation and beatings, closeted words as hushed as closet doors.

But, I'm a cool kid too. 

Old school cool, milkshakes and hardwood floors.

Not like you, never like you.

I accept things as they are, not as they should be. 

The cool kids nowadays wear their hearts on their sleeves. 

We live in the moment, loving harder and caring more.

The cool kids couldn't care more.

I'm a cool kid, loving those I adore.

And I will care for my health

Even if you don't care for myself.

I will love my body

While you don't love anybody.

I will appreciate myself and others

Whilst you could never bother.

Most of all, 

I will recognise the pain and heartbreak that you caused

At which you never will pause,

And I will forgive you.

Because you can't do, what I can do.

 

Much love, your daughter, 

Gracie