I Lost My Mom Before She Died
When I was molested at 8 years old by my older brother, my mother fought tooth and nail to get him out of the house. She advocated for me with passion. She stood by me as my brother initially denied the claims and made me out to be a liar. Publicly, my mother was everything I could have asked for. She followed up in all the ways you would want your mother to and she didn’t let up until she got me help. However, the ordeal took a toll on our private relationship and my mother could no longer offer me the comfort or care that I needed. I understand now that she was burnt out. Having my own children and having had to live a life in the aftermath of trauma, I understand it better than ever. She couldn’t offer me those hugs and kisses, she couldn’t wipe away those tears. She was doing everything she could to keep it together. I get it, but, at eight years old I needed those hugs and words of comfort and my heart was broken without them. Our relationship suffered greatly. The divide became wider and wider as I grew older and more resentful of her. Feeling rejected, she pushed away, and our relationship became more and more superficial over time.
My mother wouldn’t go wedding dress shopping with me. She said she didn’t feel up to it. She later told me she felt that it was silly and that it wasn’t necessary for a good marriage. When I had my first child, it was my father who showed up to see his…
