The (Im)perfect little (boy)girl I used to be

Entry 1: My Mother

When I was a young girl my mother always told me that I should act more 'ladylike', which I now find a bit unsettling. Although the memories of those conversations still tend to be comforting nonetheless, seeing as my mother was such a large staple in my life. Which of course should be a given, she is my mother after all. She not only birthed me, but raised me until I was old enough to go out into the world on my own.

Despite all this I still managed to have a deep rooted hate for that woman, no matter how much I try to rid of it. The little girl deep inside of my heart and soul still hates her oh so much. The trauma and pain she had caused me lingering after so long, the effect her actions had on me still making an ugly appearance to this day.

I never forgave my mother, I honestly don't think I ever will. Yet as I think back on the time I had with her, I still manage to miss that woman. The same woman who put me through hell and back, all with a smile on her face. Almost as if what she was doing wasn't wrong in any way possible. I know that just isn't true though, I'm well aware of the fact. Yet I still feel like it was normal, as if it wasn't something that ended in tragedy. Not only for me, but for herself as well.

I think there's simply that part of me that still wants to believe it was for the greater good. I want to believe for some fucked up reason that my mother didn't do what she did for her own selfish means. That I was turned into this beautiful, talented girl for my own safety, not because she didn't get the baby girl that she had always wanted. Even though I know that's exactly why she did it, because she didn't get the baby girl she so desperately wanted.

I was born a whiney, crying, attention seeking boy, yet she molded me into the complete opposite by the age of 4. I was not only quiet, calm, and oh so obedient, but I wasn't even a boy anymore. At least not when it comes to identifying publicly as one. I was a young beautiful girl, well known for how good of a child she was. I was taught that if I wanted anything in life I needed a head start, I had to break people's hearts sometimes. Even if it was my own heart that was breaking, I had to do whatever it took to become her little pride and joy.

So I worked to do exactly that, become the perfect offspring according to my mother. I worked hard from a young age, and I continue to work hard even now. I know that she would be more than disappointed in me, yet I still work hard to try and please the woman who is long gone. I still try to please the woman who left me for dead over, and over, and over again as I -over time- had not fulfilled her expectations.

Now I have to live with how it affected me, starting with processing it all. My therapist said the first step to processing my trauma was to recount it. So if future me is reading this, I hope you manage to read back, and move forward. As there's no way, or point in trying to turn back. Not now, not ever, not for that wretched woman that I know we will still love deep down. Wishing myself luck on that journey, write me back, and tell me how it goes? Just so I know I succeeded at something. Even if it's not what my mother wanted

Sincerely, Tamaria Leona Johnson