Dear Mother,

I'm not buying you a gift this year.  In fact, I don't even plan on seeing you for Mother's Day.  It's been over three weeks now and you've haven't said 5 words to me that aren't work related other than a text that said "Can I see kids tomorrow?"  You know what?  I'm over it.  I may have hurt your feelings, but I knew exactly where to aim, mostly because you taught me how to be a savage and to wreck people with just words.  I only took a stab after you did because you basically told me I was worthless and would never amount to anything.  Yeah, ok.  Never mind that by the age of 27 I had accomplished more things than you have even today.  College degree, my own house, decent car in the driveway, not marrying a man who beat the shit out of me on a daily basis?  How long did it take you to get those things?  Oh yeah, that's right...

Truth is, I don't need you like you would like to think I do.  If I knew I had somewhere to go start over and wouldn't have a huge battle with E's dad, I would pack up and be out of this shithole town in a heartbeat.  The only reason I stayed here this long was because of you and step-dad and your relationship with the kids.  Now that they don't want to hang around you because you're that awful to be around, I really see no point in listening to the senseless drivel that comes out of your mouth.

You know what?  If I didn't sit 4 cubicles away from you at work, it would be easy to cut you out of my life completely.  There are SOOOOOOO many other women that I know that are awesome, inspirational people who I'd rather (and sometimes do) call mom.  Some of them old enough to be you, some of them not, but all of them care more for me than you ever have or will. 

I will keep doing what I'm doing and chugging along, because I'm choosing not to be a failure.  You may make me feel like one, but I'm not.  Here in a few months when all of the legal bullshit is over and I'm back on top of the world, I'll look down on you from my mountaintop and give you the double fuck you wave high in the air.  You can't control me, you'd think you would know that after 32 years, and you certainly won't be making me feel like shit anymore.

No Love,
Tara

P.S. My Mother's Day?  I'm going to spend it curled up with whatever kid wants to sleep all day because I'll have completed yet another 80 hour work week.  Sounds perfect to me.....


**Those of you who want to comment and tell me that you've lost a parent and I'll wish I didn't say the things I did someday when they're gone, you can skip commenting this time.  Truth is, maybe I will regret it, maybe I won't, and if you think this is bad, you've obviously never read anything I've written about my dad......