Thursday, March 15, 2012

Moved by Words

I always had an affinity for words and good writing.

Thanks to this post, I came across the wouldhavesaid.com site and I just died when I read this. Sometimes it's so hard to be a parent. And it's also hard being a child.


Momma,

Do you remember,
when I was breaking inside, 
and when I was breaking bowls and plates and glasses 
because I didn’t know how to tell you 
that I wasn’t as put-together as you thought?

When I finally realized 
that being quiet and stumbling through without causing problems 
was just-good-enough for you, 
good enough to keep you from being mad at me, 
but not good enough to get attention? 

When I finally realized that
by being good and letting you focus on my three brothers and their problems 
and never asking for anything 
was just going to end with me not having anything 
and you not caring 
and not understanding when I finally asked for something? 

Do you remember, 
when I finally told you I broke the plate, 
and instead of asking why, 
or what was wrong, 
you said:

“That behavior is unacceptable.”

Did you stop to wonder what behaviors I had skipped for you? 
Did you think about all the girls my age with kids, 
with addictions and bad attitudes and no respect, 
who didn’t even bother coming home at night? 
Did you think about what I would feel, 
knowing my behavior was ‘unacceptable’, 
knowing I was ‘unacceptable’ 
and that nothing I could do would change that? 

Did you realize it was going to make me curl up in bed 
and hate for so long 
and realize I’d hated the whole time, 
and now, 
weeks and months and years later, 
when I know better, 
I still hate, 
and I’ll never be able to stop?

Do you remember, 
when I was breaking inside, 
and when I was trying to break down and tell you, 
do you remember leaving me behind 
with all the tiny bits of shattered Me, 
and telling me the best thing to do 
was to build a cage with the pieces? 

I don’t think you do.

Allyssa, Your Good Kid, age 18