Just Like You

Dear mom,

There's a friend I saw recently.  Me and her became close as adults and when she found out that you, her favorite music teacher, was my mother it rather solidified our friendship. She said to me that I look exactly like you.

Always have resembled you, haven't I? Folks used to tell me so all the time growing up. I hated it. It's an honor for a daughter to look so similar to the woman who gave birth to her. Especially when it comes to you.

All of your students loved you. As a child, we couldn't go anywhere without someone recognizing you. Whether it was in our own hometown, on vacation, on tour there was always someone who knew you as a great teacher. People spoke so highly of you. They still do to be honest.

See, however, I know who you are outside of your educational and musical status. Looking like you was the worst thing considering we had the biggest issue with one another.

When I look in the mirror I see me but I also see you. I'll deny it to anyone else but I cannot deny it to myself. And there is something else I cannot deny.

I am just like you.

Not only do I have your beautiful eyes and killer smile, I am strong, just like you. I am an intellectual force, just like you. My fingers have played and my voice has sung some of the sweetest melodies, just like you. I can hypnotize a room with my wit and charm, just like you.

And just like you, I can make people love or hate me with just words said in the most eloquent of ways. But just like you, I would much rather them love me. I have a need to control situations to my comfortability and what do ya know. You do too.

I feel I have so many secrets people can use against me and I have come to the realization that you feel you do too. I fight with myself to allow anyone to know the real me. It scares me and I know it scares you too.

The difference between us is I try to heal and deal with things while you mark it off in your brain as not even happening. You know, conveniently forgetting about things we know were wrong is a trait we share. Pushing away people who genuinely care about us is something we are good at too.

When I look in the mirror it pains me to know and see how much we are alike. I am proud of who you are professionally but I despise being your daughter. I feel if I was one of your non relative students I could appreciate your accomplishments so much more than I already do.

To not know the other side of you would be quite pleasant seeing that you are an influential person. As I make my plans and push at being a writer I hope I become as influential as you, if not more so. However, I pray none of my children feel the way I feel about you.

To love and hate someone is the hardest feeling, especially when it's family. I guess I am just like you in that right too. We love and hate each other. I just wish I knew why. I really would like to get to the bottom of it. One day, maybe, we will sit down and talk about it.

Until then,

Your daughter

The Beginning

Dear mom,

Honestly, I have been back and forth about us. What our relationship really is. How we truthfully see each other. Where our loyalties lie. When things just went wrong. Who is the one to blame.

To be a total adult about it, I think we are both to blame. It hangs on both our shoulders, however this was noticed by me long ago. I saw the amount of unnecessary hatred that spew between us, forcing those around us to take cover. It was venomous and very unhealthy.

The events of the last few months have compelled me. If I cannot talk to you without blatant disrespect flowing from my lungs, I can only write to you. This way I can tame my tongue and let my words reach out to you. I can tweak and edit if I become reprehensible.

Knowing you, this will only fuel the way you feel about me. Knowing you, the thought of saying what I really think out loud, so I can be held accountable for what you will not forgive me for, will only anger you.

Honor thy mother and father. I want to be your daughter. I want to take care of you as you age. I want to show you the great person I become by what you've taught me. However, the hatred that emits from you makes it hard for me to do what is supposed to be done.

In truly showing respect, I have chosen to stop trying to communicate verbally with you. All it does it cause frustration and arguments. Nothing gets accomplished this way. So maybe if I just tell you how I feel and allow you to read instead of hear, you will take my feelings more seriously. At least this is my hope.

My real hope is by writing out what I think or feel will allow other young women to maybe regain a connection with their mothers. Maybe something I say will mimic their emotions and will cause the lines of communication to be opened for others who battle like we do. Maybe a mother/daughter relationship can be saved if ours cannot.

I can only pray that one day you'll read and comprehend but if not someone will gain from our tragedy.

Love,
Your daughter