As you’ve made abundantly clear, you believe that I harbor feelings of hatred toward you. (Yes, you used that exact word, suggesting that it’s the reason for my absence from your life.) But here’s the reality: I don’t despise you. I long for the mother I once knew—the one who playfully bathed my dolls in the sink and shared laughter over classic television shows. How could I possibly despise you? You are my mother.
Yet, I’ve reached my limit.
I can no longer entertain your justifications for being consistently unreliable, nor can I accept your explanations for why you shouldn’t be trusted behind the wheel. I’m exhausted by the excuses surrounding your injuries, the broken bones, and the bruises that tell a story of neglect and poor choices. Your claims that your drinking isn’t severe, or that your medications don’t transform you into someone unrecognizable, are increasingly hard to accept as the truth.
I’m finished with your fabrications. Fabrications about your alcohol consumption, the pills you mix with your drinks, your arrival times, whether bills are paid, and the relationships you’ve had while still married to my father. You spin tales about the supportive partner you have now, even though he is a criminal who likely contributed to at least one of those bruises. You misrepresent my character to others because I refuse to expose my children to your toxic environment.
I’m tired of feeling responsible for your struggles. For far too long, I questioned how I could have altered my behavior to prevent you from seeking solace in bottles. I endured the weight of your threats, feeling as if I had to carry your burdens. But I cannot do that anymore. Your choices belong to you, not to me.
I refuse to accept the blame any longer.
I didn’t create the cycle of poor decisions that has led us to this point. I wasn’t the one who chose the alcohol, the deception, the betrayal, or the painful words that linger in my memory. I didn’t decide to be in the car when you drove while intoxicated or wish for an accident to escape your pain. I’m done internalizing your actions as my fault.
You have also chosen not to seek help. If it were up to me, you would have sought treatment long ago, becoming a proud member of AA and working with a therapist to address your mental health. Instead, you deny that your drinking and medication create issues in your life. You’ve ignored my pleas for you to seek assistance.
So, I am done.
I cannot make you prioritize our relationship, nor can I compel you to heal and become the mother I wish for. My power lies in my own choices, and I choose to distance myself. I choose to protect my children from the consequences of your decisions. I refuse to allow you to verbally abuse me in front of them. I won’t let you drive them around or disrupt their lives. I choose to reject your demons.
Instead, I choose to be the best mother I can be, even if it means being seen as a “bad daughter” in your eyes. My children deserve a stable environment, and so do I.
Until you genuinely commit to improving your life, I will maintain this distance. I can’t control your actions, but I can dictate my own. I refuse to let you bring chaos into my life any longer. I choose to nurture my kids in a happy, secure home, prioritizing their safety above all. This means I must choose them (and myself) over you.
So, do I hate you? No, I feel sorrow for your situation. I truly miss the relationship we could have had together. I hope one day you find the strength to seek help. If that day arrives, perhaps we can both reconsider our choices.
For now, we will remain apart, and I will not allow guilt to burden me.
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Summary
In this heartfelt letter, a daughter expresses her struggles with her toxic mother, emphasizing the pain caused by her mother’s alcoholism and erratic behavior. She declares her decision to walk away from the toxic relationship to protect herself and her children, while still holding onto the hope for her mother’s recovery.