Dear Mother

My whole life has been ruled by fear,
Fear of disappointing you,
Fear of doing something wrong.
Fear of stating my opinion,
Fear of being beaten.
Fear of being caught rebelling,
Fear of revealing who I really am.

I only wanted your love,
Your caring and pride in me.
I wanted to be given a chance,
Not to be worked so hard
That now I’m burned out.

Instead of a mother I had a taskmaster,
A Gestapo officer with a ruler or a wooden spoon,
Who beat me when I disagreed,
Who laughed at me when she hurt me,
Who screamed at me when I didn’t come out on top,
Who lied to the world about what really went on at home.

You tried to raise me the best you could,
You tried to provide for me.
You tried to give me all the opportunities you never had,
You tried to make me into the person you thought I could be.

You showed your love by expecting the best
By spoiling me with gifts.
By pushing me harder when I wanted to rest,
By slowly pushing me farther and farther away from you.

You made me tough,
You made me hard.
You made me a fighter,
You made me a rebel.

I’ll never hate you, but I’ll never love you
And I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for me.
But I’ll never be a woman like you,
And I’ll never forget how you taught me
What not to do.