To my oldest daughter,

Let me start by telling you how grateful I am that you picked me to be your Mom.  I honestly had no clue what I was doing in your early years (hell, maybe not even now in your teenage years) but know that I loved you and never wanted to be the source of any pain to you. I never intended to cause you any trauma and when you made your debut into this world, my instincts were to protect you at all costs and give you a life different from mine…better. I found myself putting your needs ahead of mine in all aspects of my life.  I endured heartache and pain willingly to ensure that you kept a great relationship with your Dad even when it wasn’t the healthiest for me.

While I am grateful for all the struggles that have brought our family to this point, I hope that you can meet me with grace as I continue to process those times and hug the girl I was back in that time period.  The girl that was raising a child as an unhealed version of myself.  Who loved you fiercely and some days was only hanging by a thread.  Please know that your smile, snuggles and innocence often pulled me through.  It kept me going.  You teach me every day whether you know it or not. I am in total awe by you and grateful for the lessons you teach me daily beautiful girl. Thank you for being my mirror, thank you for showing me parts of me that live in you that trigger me to grow and heal.

I went through a process recently that I didn’t see coming. Let me just say that despite all the work I’ve already done this last year, triggers show up unexpectedly and sometimes are highlighted by people you would never guess. To paint the picture, it was a normal Saturday in our house.  I was grocery list making, tidying up and going about my day without the hustle that a normal work-day brings.  Our family has an interesting banter amongst ourselves and sometimes it doesn’t always land well with each other depending on the day. 

I was looking for my phone charger that is generally kept at my desk and it was missing.  I was feeling a little silly that morning, so I approached my 8-year-old and said, “Bella, it must’ve been YOU who stole my charger.”  She replied with, “No I bet you I didn’t Mom.”  Our faces were animated, and the accusations had begun.  Bella caught on to my humor and said, “I’ll help you look for it Mom but I bet Dad took it and hid it.”  We had a good ole fashioned game of Clue happening and we were giggling.  We searched high and low with no charger to be found.  My youngest then noticed that my 15-year-old daughter’s door was open.  My youngest smirked and looked over at me and yelled, “Mom, I bet it was Aleena who took your charger.  She’s a little stealer!”  She then barged into Aleena’s room.  I was laughing and said, “Bella, I be you’re right…Aleena is a charger stealer.”

My oldest daughter has super long, thick and beautiful blonde hair and in slow motion I saw her hair whirl around in a furry until her piercing blue eyes met mine.  She said with anger in her voice, “Of course you would blame me before anyone else especially your favorite daughter.”  In that instant, I knew that the missing charger jokes weren’t funny to her.  It wasn’t intended to hurt her but it did.  She was triggered and then I felt triggered.  My impulse reaction was to take her phone from her and I did that and walked away.  It wasn’t until I walked downstairs and away from the exchange, that I got to thinking, “what the hell was that?”  I started to embark on the pendulum of shame and rethinking the whole scenario, placing blame, feeling guilt.  Recognizing this pattern, I knew I had to go inward.  When I got quiet and started to reflect, that’s when I found the root and what needed to be healed. 

When Aleena lashed out at me, I felt a punch in the gut.  Her words pierced my soul.  I realized that I was taken back to the time of being a young single Mom who was given this beautiful little girl to protect, provide for and raise in love.  I had no clue what I was doing and to add insult to injury, I didn’t know what the future held for her Dad and I.

Jake and I dated for about two years on and off before we became parents to Aleena.  During my pregnancy with Aleena, I suspected that he had another relationship going, but I didn’t want to believe it.  In fact, my intuition was spot on, but I chose to believe him, the lies, the manipulation and the betrayal over myself.  I was painted as crazy, as a bitch and the list goes on all the while growing this beautiful child in my womb.  My pregnancy was great in the textbook sense, but I was not well mentally or emotionally through all of it.  Jake and I were fighting constantly, he was partying hard and ultimately checked out of our relationship.  One day after he had been gone for over a 24-hour period with no phone call or text to where he was, he finally came home and said that he no longer wanted to be in a relationship with me and I needed to move out of the home we shared at the time. I was 7 months pregnant, hours away from my own family and friends and devastated.  Soon after, I was able to find a nice apartment for me, my unborn daughter and dog to settle into in close proximity to Jake.  I bought furniture, decorated Aleena’s bedroom and just tried to keep myself in good spirits until I couldn’t.

There was a day that I was driving back from a Dr. appointment alone and the darkness consumed me.  A heaviness in my body and a tightness in my chest. At a stop light, I looked down at my big pregnant belly and thought to myself that I should just end this now.  I thought about all the ways that I could end my life and my daughter’s so we could live in peace together in heaven. It felt like an out of body experience and still have no idea how I made it home to my new apartment that day.  I remember being greeted by my dog, Lucky, and I lost it when my eyes met hers.  She saw my pain and just let me melt into it.  She laid by me and loved me in my darkness.  She listened to me cry for hours but her love and stillness was what my heart was yearning for.  As I reflect on that day, Lucky was the vessel of God’s love for me to remind me that I was loved and not broken. 

I share all of this as the comment that Aleena made, took me back to that young Mom I once was, that devasted, scared, lonely and heartbroken girl who made the choice to push through another day.  That girl needed to be held this day, but not by my daughter…by me. 

When I was fully able to embrace that young, single Mom version of myself, I gave the phone back to my now 15-year-old daughter and apologized to her for my abrupt reaction.  I got vulnerable with her and told her what part of me popped up during our interaction.  I reassured her that my stuff is not hers to carry and it’s not her job to love the part of me that showed up today in conflict. I asked her for grace as I continue to work through my own stuff.  I showed her grace and guided her through her own trigger.  I witnessed my daughter healing herself, setting boundaries and being vulnerable. This day, we learned how to communicate and we taught each other how to show up for ourselves and each other. We both met different versions of ourselves, versions who will undoubtedly show up again in many forms and in different timelines.