To Whom It May Concern

I held your daughter as she wept for you today. Not beside your deathbed or next to your grave, she didn’t cling to your picture but she is in mourning. She mourns the words of wisdom her heart aches to hear but she’s never heard you say, the loss of a blissful ignorance and hope. Her heart breaks every time you show her that you were never made to be the mother she so desperately needs, that you don’t have the grit and resolve to become that mother. I held her as she wept and I affirmed all her wildest dreams, except one; I won’t lie to her and allow her to hope that you will ever be half the woman she is already. A child, barely sixteen, and she is more self-aware and emotionally developed than you; her own mother. I have heard you utter the one word you are not capable of grasping the gravity of, and she believed you. She wants to believe you still; a part of her will always want to believe, that you’ve changed, that you understand, that you love her. With time and resilience, she will accept the truth and she will persevere despite you; or to spite you, either way, she will win. The truth is that without you, she really can’t lose. Sure, you’ve done your best, and it wasn’t easy for either; especially not “raising” such a high-spirited daughter, who just won’t submit. But then, that’s the real issue though, isn’t it?

To be fair, my perspective of your situation is purely vicariously. I’ve not walked in your shoes, I’ve not borne any children. What I have done is hear your daughter tell you exactly the kind of support she needs from you and I watched her crumble in defeat when you weaponized your incompetence; when you asked her to dissect her needs further and come back to you with clear instructions. I have held her, validated her, and I’ve celebrated with her. She’s come to me for guidance, and accepted advice as it fit her needs. I have watched her grow and position herself for success and emotional well-being. And I have watched her do this all best, without you.
You’ve called, of course. You’ve apologized, again; we all know a true apology is more than the mere words you’ve managed to offer. Don’t forget you also blamed her for your lack of emotional regulation and self-control, when you put your hands on her. She ran, of course, to somewhere safe…and then she used their phone to get back to us, where she feels safe. Imagine that, if you can swallow your pride long enough to see the issue. Your daughter feels safer with people who are essentially strangers, who owe her nothing—who aren’t you. You are the last person on this planet, in this universe or any other, that should ever make her feel unsafe. Especially when she is so vulnerable, and especially when she expresses rage and resentment that you have well earned. Instead, you chose to be the first; if she let you, you would continue to tear her down until she bent to your will…or she died fighting to find release from your grip. Nevermind that you are not worthy to carry the title of mother, you can’t even bring yourself to make an honest effort to put the work in and earn her respect and loyalty. No, you’d rather gaslight and invalidate and dismiss—exploit. You’d rather make her feel small so you don’t feel so alone in your misery.
I held your daughter today, like the child that she is, telling her all of the dreams she’s ever had for herself are real…and validating her choice to remove you from the equation. That’s a powerful voice you are now competing against; not because it’s mine, but because it soothes the burning rage and betrayal, and resentment that you have made her feel. Before you defend your struggles and your obstacles, remember that you chose to be a mother. Perhaps before you chose to assume responsibility for nurturing and guiding the safety and well-being of another human being you should have considered identifying and healing your own wounds. Maybe even develop your emotional intelligence beyond that of a wounded teenager. I’m sure you are used to people siding and empathizing with you, and I’m sure the concept of criticism of your position is foreign. Might I suggest introspection, therapy, and healthier associates?
The thing is, your problems are only my problems as much as they pertain to your daughter; and she’s going to be just fine, without you. She is bright, empathetic, self-aware, with a growth mindset and the dream of being a good mom and committed wife to a loving husband—none of which you have ever been an example. At this point, you are probably assuming that I carry some sort of hatred toward you. I will admit that the pain and abandonment you’ve left your daughter to feel, without you…because of you. Sure, she is crying now and she feels lost and confused, but she’s putting that hurt and anger and energy into healing. I don’t expect you to understand, and I don’t expect you to acknowledge that her happiness will never be yours to share, but, at some point, you will have to accept it. 



Thanks for reading!