Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

Today, you’ve lost it again.

A couple of times.

Maybe three.

Or four. Or five.

Your kid made you go crazy. And you let him know.

And then you hated yourself for it.

And you wondered how on earth can you react like that when truly, you’re not a bad person at heart.

And you hate yourself some more. And you hated what witnesses might think of you. You hated their thoughts. And you hated their judgmental feelings.

You hate having your spouse see you turn into someone that is a stranger even to you.

You hate him for the luxury he has to escape to his office.

Away from all the noise, chaos and craziness.

Away from you. Your worst self.

You hate him for coming home and seeing you still in your PJs, all dishevelled, not an ounce of self-love left, never mind love for him – or anyone else for that matter.

Dear Mom,

You feel that even God hates you for who you have become.

You can’t look other people in the face without feeling guilty.

You can barely look at yourself in the mirror.

You think the whole world has turned against you.

You hate being a mom not because you hate your kids, but you hate what becoming a mom has made of you.

You’ve become the person who had sworn you would never be.

And if you could, you would pack your bags and leave. ASAP.

Not because you hate your kids or your husband but because you hate to be so exposed, so naked, so vulnerable, so raw and because you hate having your family suffer because of you.

Dear Mom,

I want to congratulate you today.

I want to congratulate you for staying put.

I want to congratulate you for swallowing down your pride and for looking like a mess to put others first.

I want to congratulate you for being the first one up.

I want to congratulate you for standing strong like a lighthouse in a sea of judgmental waves crashing against you at all times during the day.

I want to congratulate you for tirelessly working all day to make your family and household run, despite the mess coming back as soon as you finished tidying and cleaning.

I want to congratulate you for the self-control you have to exert all day to avoid screaming all day, and “just” to shout and get angry.

I want to congratulate you for the huge effort you make to keep it together, when truly, you are often falling apart physically and emotionally inside.

Dear Mom,

You are a warrior.

So press on.

Press on despite the bullets.

Press on despite the wounds.

Press on despite the tiredness.

Press on despite the hopelessness.

You will win this battle.

Against yourself.


Your fellow

Pilgrim on The Road.


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