14

You have questions I don’t have the answers to.

I’ve as much of an idea on how to control our moods as I do on conjuring the sun at night.
And despite my best intentions and trying to help, I often can’t figure it out for myself, so here we are, two peas in a pod, not wanting to belong, but surviving.

I think it’s important you recognise this.
That problems this big can’t be fixed with a wish and a kiss.
The journey, transforming through adolescence from kid, is quite simply, life changing.

Remember when you were little and I said “these are the best bits of your life”.
Well that was a lie.
What I meant was easiest.
No responsibility, just innocence and vulnerability, though I know you’d say before me that those years were hard.
And it gets harder.
Instead of questioning me it’ll be yourself, those around you, your mental health, the reason for existing, why you was gifted with empathy but for animals specifically, delving into the impossible that very few have found the meaning for.

You are made of half of my all and perhaps that’s why we disagree.
I’d like to think all the salty bits of you come directly from me.
You couldn’t comprehend what has happened to generations of your family, but it resonates within you, often angry, sadness becomes misshapen passion you haven’t found a purpose for yet.

But you will get there.
The best chance of any of us so far.
Your resilience, quietly spoken determination, if you think you can do something then it’s done.
There will be a time where you’ll see, I was on your side, you’ll believe in my love and realise how fucking difficult it’s to be a mum.
Not just any but your one.

I’m not an idiot, expecting it anytime soon.
The lack of sympathy for the things I’ve gone through hurts but it isn’t your fault.
My 14 year old daughter cannot be my therapist.
A twist of a blade in my ribs describing my life, what I suffered as a kid falling on deaf ears, means I’ve changed the cycle, doesn’t it?

Tell me it does.