I have been trying to corral my emotions for my mother, to see what their message is and how I felt about her as a child. And the contradiction between who I saw her as and who she really was, are miles apart.
She isn't as clearly defined as my father. His abuse has a name and profile…hers is much more camouflaged into normalcy and society, and her family, allow her to blend in nicely.
Thinking backwards into our relationship, I feel I was duped…and yet confirmed by my feelings.
My feelings towards her were lacking. The warmth and inner excitement and joy a child would naturally feel…were missing. Again, it was my problem; a child who can't love or feel love or feel comfort and connection with a parent.
I lived for 46 years, believing I was the problem.
When your body can't love someone; it appears to be you.
She presented to me as a woman of high morals and values. Her Faith was her ruler in all of her life choices, and she'll be damned to set them aside….for anyone or anything. She appeared to be large, strong and capable woman…a woman who knew what she wanted…and what she disapproved of.
Her church appeared to present to the world standards that were remarkable in their pureness. And, she a faithful follower.
It appeared she refrained from the lesser evils of the world.
She arrogantly was blind to anything; but her way.
I guess, if I was honest; I was trying, either consciously or not, to emulate her.
She was my standard and pattern to follow.
There was a battle between my Self and then her way.
Often the two didn't match.
And her disappointment clear when I chose my self over her needs.
I also catered to her needs more often than not.
I was her right hand; the one she relied on and leaned on as she complied with the churches belief against birth control. Child after child arrived in our home.
I was used to assist her as she faithfully followed the church.
I can't really go back to our very young years. Or perhaps I can go back, I just don't feel young.
I feel like a mothering child.
What is the most basics of contradictions, is how she responded to the allegations, or show and tell, in my case…about my father's abuse and her response.
Or, the lack thereof.
This seems to be the most severe breach of her character.
Where was the strong moral woman when I needed her?
Early on I felt that the underlying value she holds… is her blindness.
And, now I would call it denial.
Her inability to see that which would compromise her life's choices.
In our last conversation there were two items not open for discussion.
Her husband and her Faith.
This is where her blindness was the darkest.
And this is the chasm where I fell.
She was unable to see my wounds, for they would have broken her 'love' relationship. And, she used her Faith to shore up the cracks when something threatened to expose a truth she couldn't bear knowing.
Even when my father was lodged in the Houghton County Jail on Sexual Abuse charges, she still didn't see Him. She suggested we (her and I) had two different perceptions of him. She…Believing there were two!
What emotions do I have for her….?
Frustration and disbelief at her arrogance of holding on to something that isn't there anymore…while disregarding what is.
She held on to the value of her relationship with my father; while throwing me away.
I believe, she thinks she can have both or hold value in both of us – My father and I. Like we are the same….'her loves.'
Her failure to see her husband's abuse towards me, left me feeling unseen at the most needy time in my life.
It is interesting to view my little child self.
To see her innocent and how my father treated that….
And, then to see her wounded and how my mother treated that.
How broken she left me to take care of myself.
Turning a blind eye.
Unable to See who damaged me…keeping him as he always was Innocent; a hardworking, asking for nothing, kinda man….who clothed and fed 14 children, never complaining….
Reducing me than to someone who threatened her kind man…changing him into a pedophile. How dare you, Beth Ann!
Her greatest acts of failure will be keeping him kind in her heart; loving him unconditionally against all proof otherwise.
Her greatest failure as a mother was/is not seeing the child and their needs.
Her needs, her faith, her love….came first now and always.
I guess the desire to be with her left me at 7.
I wasn't drawn to someone who failed to see me, a young child with trauma to her private parts. Imagine this fear added to the already traumatized child.
Showing a wound…to be ignored.
Unseen…except for the predator that lives there.
Imagine the confusion. My monster is her love.
Where can we meet for commonality?
Again, where does the child stand in this insane landscape?
To be with my body's truth…is to know this. And, to live in my mother's world…there was no monster there; my body has lied.
I am saying something unkind. "If you don't have anything kind to say, say nothing at all…" One of her favorite sayings.
Maybe I feel now that I am at least honoring my truth and my body.
I am openly saying and acting like 'something' happened.
That unlike my mother; I changed how I saw my world.
I see it as the woman I thought was so morally centered was an immoral accomplice to my father's abuse against children.
She was his right hand.
She covered up what he had done.
By not seeing it.
And we would be wrong for showing our wounds.
I am proof of this.
Who is on the inside of the family circle and who stands outside?
She is one of the ringleaders of the circle of abuse.
I will invite the feelings to arise today.
I don't know what was worse to have been innocent and then be abused or to be abused and seen as unwounded?
Perhaps the second traumatization didn't impact as much for I was already broken…
Art heals the wounds..
I M Perfect lady 
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