I knew it wasn’t the wisest decision to meet with my mother after seven years of no contact.
The past seven years have been the happiest of my life—despite being sued by my parents, four months of being homeless, suffering a miscarriage, the death of my father and all while healing from the wounds of my childhood abuse. I’ve fought to rid myself of the toxic beliefs of my dysfunctional family and I’m finally thriving.
Logically, it doesn’t make sense that I would even be willing to talk with my mom or see her again after everything she and my father did to me. But despite all reason, in my heart, I still long for a mom.
Yesterday was my 46th birthday. Birthdays prompt me to reflect on my life—where I’ve come from and where I am now. Some of my thoughts included the woman who gave birth to me. My mother walked out of my life several years ago and adamantly denies that my father sexually abused me. However, it appears she was thinking of me too since she left a comment on my blog post, My Story by Christina Enevoldsen:
“Christina has dreamed up her sexual abuse–accusing her father of horrible, evil behaviors that far, far from his character. Christina is using these accusations as a way of hurting her parents and getting the attention she craves. So sad that she is willing to create a fantasy world where she is the hero / victim. Will she ever come to her senses and ask for forgiveness? That is the first step to real healing…“
It wasn’t the typical warm, fuzzy sentiments that other mothers might send. Though she certainly didn’t intend to help me in any way, this turned out to be a key to my favorite gift this year—a gift that came from me.