“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in it’s perfect power.”

As strong as a hurricane, as destructive as a perfect storm, that was how I saw my mom.

My mom used to beat the shit out of me. God knows how much blows I had to endure during those years when my body was all too fragile to even take a simple slap.

I grew up fearing nothing but my mom. She passed away when I was in third grade.

I am now 27 years old. Looking back since she was gone, I’ve done a lot of things I am not proud of, and of course, things I know my mom would never be proud of.

Thinking about them makes me realize that I did deserved those beatings I had when I was little. Just when I thought I could have died because of too much suffering I had during those years, looking how I’ve become today, every stab, every bruise, every cut, every drop of blood I had when I was young from the hands of my mom, was all I deserved since she won’t be around to kill me today for every shameful person I’ve become.

Every time I chance upon any photo of her (which is not a lot) scares the shit out of me because looking at them, even in a faded snapshot, makes me feel guilty as hell. I now realized that whatever mom did to me when I was young was for me to get my acts together when I get older.

Whatever you did when I was young was a way of punishing me for my future stupidity because you will be nowhere around to cut my hands when I steal, tie me with rope upside down when go somewhere I am told not to, not feed me anything if I try to eat too much of what I am allowed to, and just let me stay in shadows since you will be too ashamed to let anyone know I am your daughter.

Now I know.

You knew all along what I would become one day.

Mom. I am sorry. I hated you because of what you did to me before. Now, I don’t know if I still have a reason to continue hating what you did to me.

I don’t know if I make you proud. I used to think that I do. Maybe, someday, I’d find a way to make you proud of me.

Nevertheless, Mother’s Day won’t be the same without remembering you.

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