I barely managed birth |
and had the pressure marks to show for the next 6 months.
My whole life has been a non-event.
Childhood spent in the shadow of an adored older brother.
I didn't mind, but why did she have to say
and keep on saying all my life -
with a barely concealed sneer,
that I looked like the 'other' Nanna…
What self esteem ..
39 years of trying to please Mother…
Justifying to her why I should exist.
Justifying to her,
her pain for going through the martyrdom of childbirth.
Acute re-occurring bouts of tonsillitis-
even worse after they were taken out,
especially around my birthday.
Totally unable to speak my truth to Mother,
my expression stifled…
Her absolute anguish that I'm breaking away-
taken as a personal insult.
'Don't get on that boat' (meaning pregnant and not married).
She must think I'm the oldest living virgin.
Doesn't she know that I have wrecked my reproductive system,
absolutely wrecked it, to stop myself being pregnant for over 20
years because of my absolute fear of Mother.
Her hysterical grief and reactions of 'how could you do this to
me?' and of 'what would the neighbours say?'…
Never letting me forget that I'd given birth to the devil's bastard.
A child born within marriage is the devil's spawn but OUTSIDE
marriage is a 'sin' never to be forgiven or forgotten by Mother.
I couldn't do that to a child or me so I unconsciously sent the
spirit of the unborn child away, again and again and again….
Except for one time,
seeing a light outside myself moving towards me
and consciously sending it
The grief was enormous because I saw a child in the light that
came to me…
But I knew it wasn't safe,
for the child or me. What self esteem.
Sending the light away in me too, like I had to do when I was
little - to survive her judgemental wrath.
Becoming an empty shell…
I was never meant to be a girl.
Nanna wanted another boy to make up for the ones she had lost.
Wrong from the start…
I should have followed the script-
stayed in a 'good' job,
had 2.3 healthy Catholic children
and married a man in a suit and tie.
I should have done all these things to keep Mother's self esteem happy.
But I didn't …
I won't and I can't -
I saw the lies,
long before the conscious journey into remembering began.
On my deathbed I would see all the relatives whose lives I lived
coming to claim me and I would KNOW.
I would have to reincarnate to get it 'right'.
To spend another whole lifetime getting it right for Mother.
No self esteem, I don't count -
just a total non-entity.
39 years of trying to please Mother .. justifying to her why I should exist,
justifying to her, her pain for going through the martyrdom of childbirth.
babies die -