The need I never admit.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Dear Mom.”

Where do I even begin?

First of all, I’m sorry. I realized that these passed few years, especially once I started college, I’ve been more distant and my temper and tolerance have been at times out of hand when I’m at home. There’s probably no excuse for my attitude/and or behavior towards you or anyone at the house and I’m sorry that I snap.

I’ve been stressed, mom. I come home every once and a while, you ask how I’m doing, I say, “Oh fine, classes are going good.” well, it was a lie. Most of it was a lie. You’re not there to tell me what to do, I’m making my own choices and I suffer whatever consequences there may be.

I’m trying really hard in school, probably the hardest I’ve ever tried in my whole life. I’m taking one step at a time towards my own future and am planning it very carefully, trying not to get stuck in a bottomless pit again. Because of that I know I’ve missed some important things. Easter, Dave’s birthday, and even Mother’s day- missed it all to work harder, study harder, be a better me. I just need to focus on myself a while longer until I finish school because I’m doing this for me and I want your approval and I want you to be proud of me as well.

I know I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to me, I don’t always seem like a loving daughter, I don’t appreciate you enough. But without you, I’d be absolutely nothing. My whole world would be nothing, everything I am would come crashing down on me and I’d be so lost. I need you, I think I’ll always need you and that’s the fate of being a mom, always being needed.

So mom, thank you for always putting up with me, thank you for all that you do to support me and care for me, and lastly know that you are the greatest mom and that I love you.


One thought on “The need I never admit.

  1. It bothers me to see all the likes and no comments – it’s sort of like speed dating, you know. Kiss and whatever with no substance. I try to comment when I can, there is a I follow blogger who doesn’t open likes and she has significantly more comment. Anyway….I didn’t get my mom until much later in life… somewhere around 25 I began to understand. She became much clearer after I had kids and she became the grandma when I better understood what being a mom is about. I mean, I’ll never understand what being a mom or a woman is about – I am a dad and dads are a different sort, so to speak. I write, but I’m not a writer, I write to practice and grow. So far it helps. Cheap therapy. Have a great day.

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