I begin to lose myself and was secretly hurting on the inside, but you could not tell on the outside. The sacrifice began to become a heavy burden, but I kept going for I believed it was mine to bare because he is my son.
Growing up as a child I was raised by my grandmother who is a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. From my baby pictures she raised me and my younger sister from birth and until I was 7 years old, I thought she was my mother. My grandmother would take my sister and I on a long drive to see my birth mother and when I turned 7, she came to live with us. As I got older, I found out she was in prison and got out and came home.
I can remember like yesterday the first day she came home I was being a child and started talking about how her feet was big because she was tall. She did not like that and made a hurtful comment about my teeth which at that time was bucked and stuck out. I was very insecure as a child for a long time because of that. I remember crying and running to tell my grandmother.
It was a huge adjustment for me because my mother was cold hearted back then. She was mean and she did not love the way I had been raised and loved by my grandmother. I already did not know my father and was told he has passed away. So, I carried pain in my heart because I felt like something was missing. I wanted my father to be and filled loved by him and my mother to love the way my grandmother loved. My grandmother adopted my mother and uncle when they were children because she could not have children.
I remember how my mother would be so resentful toward my sister and I, jealous because the way my grandmother would care and provide for us. Even though we were her own children. I remember many times us living in the same house walking around not talking to one another. My grandmother would make us go apologize to my mother although we did not do anything wrong. I still continued to try and have a relationship with her because I desired to, and she was my mother.
She passed away in 2008 from brain and lung cancer later I understood as I got older that she did not know how to love. She had held a grudge against her own mother for giving her up for adoption until she literally was on her death bed. I remember we tried to search for her, but she did not even know her name. We never found her and to this day I do not know my mother's side of the family. I met my dad side of the family in my early 20's but we are not close.
I share this story to because I carried this pain with me for years vowing that I would never treat my son the way my mother treated me. That I would never not tell him that I loved him or show him how much I loved him. Not realizing that because I was carrying so much pain in my heart, overwhelmed and stressed it would lead me to be just like my mother.