Dear mum,

I tried to read more of your letters last night. I got through one half way and I couldn’t go any further. This was the one where you again needed to state some truths in order for us to get closure with each other. The problem was, all your truths came from your head, your interpretation of what you believed to be true. In your world there is only one truth, one reality; yours. And what scares me is the fact you seem to think that this is the first time I’m hearing it.

I’ve heard it all before. So many times I have lost count. So many times I’m weary of hearing the same words. Three years ago I flew home, just so you could have it out with me, just so you could get closure. Now three years on you are still saying the same things.

The Bible says that ‘the truth shall set you free’. If your truths are real, why then do I feel so oppressed by them? Why then do I feel lashed, whipped, every time you spout your truths?

“He has come to give you life, and life abundantly”

“Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you”

“Come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden, for my burden is light”

I read two pages on one of your letters and broke down in tears. Gut wrenching tears, not from conviction or guilt, but of despair – real despair, that this all you know, all you have in your life. Where is the joy that God promises? Where is the abundance of life? All there are in your letters is suffering, hurt, pain, vengeance, and I KNOW you don’t do it consciously or with the intention of causing harm – but this is the God you know. The God that you hold on to, seems to be the God of vengeance, or retribution, the God that didn’t send his OWN SON to die for us on the cross, that we may be free from all the shackles that you keep trying to place back around me.

You keep saying that sins against you equals to sins against God. I keep puzzling over this in my head, because one of the biggest risk that God took, and the most loving thing that He did, was give man free will. The right to choose their path.  I see this as the ultimate act of love, because God being all knowing, all seeing – He KNEW that giving us free will would lead to disobedience, to sin, to needing to send His own Son to the cross. Still He gave us free will, that we not be robots for all our existence. So by insisting that I obey you, listen to you, believe completely and utterly in your interpretation of God’s will and move in my life, are you not ripping away God’s gift of free will to me? Why then do I even need to have a relationship with God, if all I need is you because you know and understand His will for my life better than I do?

I believe in a different God, mum. I choose to believe in a different God. I choose NOT to believe in a God who would sacrifice His only Son for Audrey, only to then allow her 4 year old daughter to suffer from eczema as consequences for he mother’s sins against you. This is not the God that I serve, this is NOT the God I preach.

Dear mum,

I received your letters yesterday. All ten of them. It wasn’t until I dropped off the pick-up card at the post office that I realised that the package might be from you. I hate the sinking feeling I get when I see your handwriting on envelopes… I never know what to expect from your packages and.. I’m afraid.

It’s now been almost two years since I spoke to you. Sometimes I feel orphaned, and yet I know this has been my choice, not yours. I think of you often, and everytime I speak to Steve’s mother I feel guilty, like I betray you with every step I take closer to Judy.

You say that you’ve borrowed psychology books trying to understand me, understand why I’ve done what I’ve done… I wish you bought some books to help you understand yourself. I’ve learnt a lot about myself in the last two years… I wish I could say this to you face to face… but I’m not strong enough quite yet.

I’ve learnt that we perceive life through filters… screens through which we view the world and the people around us. Filters that dictate what we hear and what we understand as truth; or reality.

I’ve learnt that these filters can get damaged through abuse. They get scratched,  torn, burnt, warped, till what you see through them is warped, what you hear is a different reality, unhealthy, abnormal.

We never had a chance, the three of us. Our filters were damaged before we were even aware of them.  Your filter is so obscured by tears, blood, and pain that Dad put you through that you can barely see through the crap smeared all over your screen. What is even more damaging is the fact that you don’t see that.

You’ve said numerous times that all you’ve ever wanted is an intimate, close relationship with me. That you’re not satisfied with the superficial ‘This is how my day went’ conversations. Mum you’ve always been my hero. Your sacrifices growing up, using yourself as a shield for three young girls who never knew better, giving us everything that you possibly could through the pain of a husband who hurt you every chance you could. I know it doesn’t seem it, but for many years of my life your truth was my truth. I believed what you believed, despised what you despised, loved what you loved.

Knowing this, it’s taken a few years for me to understand why I recoil internally every time you request for a ‘heart to heart’ talk. It’s only over the last few days that I’ve come to understand myself with the light that only God can bring.

You’ve read the books on Alcoholism. You know the effects that alcoholic parent/s have on their children. I read those books myself, and for the longest time I thought I was the exception;  I didn’t feel touched by all those complexes, deep hurts and issues that those books document.

But no, I was not excepted, mum. Steve calls me Thumper. You know why? Because every time something goes wrong, in my head, through my filter, it’s my fault.

If his pants are still damp because he started his laundry too late in the night and there wasn’t enough time in the dryer to dry it out completely, it’s my fault because I didn’t remember to start his laundry earlier.

If he’s had a bad day at work, it’s my fault because I can’t make him happy and cheer him up enough.

If my colleagues are at breaking point and crying in toilets because they’re overworked, it’s my fault because I can’t do graphic design to save my life, because I can’t do their work for them.

If his car has a flat tire, it’s my fault… I don’t even know why, but through my warped, damaged filter, it’s still my fault.

If you’ve been fighting with dad and you’re angry and banging pots and pans downstairs, it’s my fault.

If you’ve been treated badly by the headmaster and have had to drag yourself through public transport in the rain, it’s my fault.

When I hear you downstairs talking to Ah Yee or Aunty Shirley in hushed tones, I think it’s about me.

It’s completely and utterly irrational, but that’s my strange, warped filter. So everytime you pull me aside and tell me about your hurts and disappointments, I take all of that on board. You walk away feeling lighter, because you’ve got it off your chest, but I drag myself away feeling about 10 tonnes heavier. I walk away feeling like a failure, because I haven’t been the daughter that you wanted or hoped for. When you tell someone ‘Your father is a sociopath’, and then in the same conversation, you say to that same person “I see your father in you” – what do you think that person hears?

It took Steve to question what I was feeling, question why I was feeling what I was feeling before I realised that my reactions, our reactions, our relationship… isn’t normal, or healthy, for me OR for you. Our filters are so damaged that we can’t actually see or hear each other – and I’ve learned that the only way for us to move forward is to include, not exclude, the other people in our lives. We needed someone who didn’t have the same damaged, warped filters to help us understand each other – that’s why people go for counselling, because often we NEED other people to help us filter through what we hear and understand.

So that’s why I distance myself from you. For years I’ve felt like the worst person for dreading time alone with my own mother – but I finally get it now.

The thing is, mum – and this is what you’ll find hardest to accept. You don’t filter your thoughts or feelings through anything apart from yourself. You’ve never had anyone to talk to about what you felt or thought, no one to tell you that you’re thinking is wrong.

But here’s the thing.. just because you think what you’re doing is right, doesn’t mean it IS right. You’re damaged too, more so than any of us, because you lived with Dad for as many years as you did. You were his wife, we were his children – you are damaged deeper and further than we are. Yes, Jesus heals – I don’t doubt that, but he can’t repair those damaged filters if we don’t realise that they are damaged.

In your world, mum, it was reasonable to call Allan. In my world, you crossed a boundary. It was not your place to get closure for ME. Only I can get closure for myself, it was MY relationship, not yours. You barely knew Allan, apart from what I shared with you, and I shared too much with you. Somewhere along the way you took that on board and made it your problem, your issue. I’m glad that Allan is now in the past for you, that you have closure, but all you’ve done to me is resurrect his ghost for ME. Allan and I will probably never be able to have a normal friendship now because the knowledge of what you did will sit between us always.

I didn’t NEED a reason why it didn’t work out, I KNEW in my heart that it was the right thing to do, I KNEW in my heart that that was something God led me to. As my mother, that should have been enough for you. You believed that you had a deeper connection to God that gave you the right to do that, but in doing that you went OVER God’s will and direction in my life. You disregarded the fact that even if I don’t live my life the way you think I should, I have my own relationship with God, I answer to Him, not to you. I was at peace with my decision, mum…. And you stirred it all up again. You took things into your own hands, and in doing so, you messed with God’s timing for our lives, mine and Allan’s.

I don’t say this to hurt you or punish you, I say this to try and make you understand what your actions have cost me. I know you had the best intentions, I know you truly felt that you were doing the right thing, all I’m saying is that what you feel is right, isn’t always right.

You said that you hated the superficiality of our relationship that you wanted something deeper, more meaningful. Mum right now superficial is all I can give you without hurting myself. I wish you would try to get to know me as a person,  because I’m really not a bad person.