My mother seemed to take pleasure in my pain. One way she hurt me as an adult was by giving me the silent treatment. Since I was grown and no longer living with her, her silence would last for years at a time. She would stop speaking to me over the smallest things—like if she didn’t like the way I answered the phone. It was pure emotional abuse, a tactic she had used on me as during my childhood as well.

When I was 12, after she had been particularly mean, I blurted out, “You should have just aborted me!” In response, she punched me in the head so hard I felt the room spin. That could have been a chance for her to tell me I was loved and that I shouldn’t feel that way, but instead, she chose violence as she always had. She then stopped speaking to me for about a week. We lived a small studio apartment, so her ignoring me in such a small space was hurtful. I felt rejected and alone.

Her behavior continued into my adulthood, and I would always call and try to get her to talk to me, but she would always tell my stepfather to tell me she wasn’t home, although she was right next to him. We must have only been in contact with each other for about a total of 3-4 years in the 22 years (at that time) I was living on my own. I always thought it was overkill and cruel. Her silent treatments were so excessive for the silliest things. She wanted nothing to do with me.

All I did was try to please her and buy her love. I would take two buses and a train to bring my mom bags of goodies I would pick up for her that I thought she might like. Whenever I showed up, it would be like Christmas for her. Yet, she wasted so much time hating me, when she could have spent that time being a mother and grandmother to my son. 

Most people say their mothers are their biggest cheerleader, but mine was my biggest critic who never missed a chance to take a shot at me. When I told her I wanted to go to college she basically discouraged me and told me I was too old. She told me I was better off getting a job as a CNA. It was clear to me that she thought of me as someone who couldn’t accomplish much.

I didn’t listen to her and went on to enroll in community college. A few years later when it was time for me to graduate, I asked her if she would come to my graduation. She said she would see. She then said, “Don’t you wish you did this when you were 17 instead of dropping out? You wasted all this time to go to school. Now you’re old.” I wanted to say, “It’s more than you ever did with your life.”  It took everything in me to hold it back, but I did. It took a little over 5 years while working full time, but I did it with absolutely no help from her. I graduated with a 3.9 GPA. Of course, she found a reason to not speak to me and didn’t attend my graduation.

One thing about me: I like to make people choke on their words, so I enrolled in a 4-year college right after graduating with my associates degree. I wish I could have told her about it. However, I’m sure she knew. I made sure I posted on social media where the monitoring spirits would report back to her.

It was the same school my cousin who I was always compared to attended. This cousin had the love and support of both parents, tutors, dance classes, and a computer to do her homework on. She grew up with her own bedroom in the suburbs, while I had to share one at 16 with my stepfather and mother in the hood. Yet, I was shamed for not excelling in life like she did.

I was constantly compared to everyone around me who obviously had access to more resources than I did. It made me feel extremely inadequate and insecure even to this day.  I feel like everyone is better than me and always second guess myself and my talents.

When I enrolled in the 4-year university, I had the drive to prove everyone wrong, yet I didn’t think I belonged there. I didn’t feel like I was smart enough. The only reason I had good grades before was because I took 2 classes at a time and sacrificed everything to focus on schoolwork. Going for my Bachelor’s was another ballgame. I had to attend fulltime, and it was rough. My GPA took a hit since I struggled to keep up. I had to juggle being a mom and working as well. 

Obtaining my Bachelor’s degree was probably one of the hardest things I had to do in my life. It took me 3 years, but I finally did it. My final semester was Spring of 2020. If you remember, Spring of 2020 was when we were faced with a pandemic.

The last two months of school, everything shut down and I had to finish my degree online. It was a blessing in disguise because I just about had it with sitting in classrooms and was happy for the break and did not mind doing my work remotely. I was looking forward to being done with school since it had been a part of my life for 8 and ½ years.

As graduation approached once again, I was excited, yet sad that I did not have a mother or even a father that would celebrate me. I was feeling lonely and just really coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going acknowledge me or my accomplishment. As I was laying in bed hurting, I was just thinking about how life was for me at that moment. I began to feel strange. Little did I know a life changing event was about to occur. 

Click here for Part 3