In a perfect world, I would never have suffered abuse. I would have loving relationships with my entire family. My mom would be a whole human being whom I could talk to about anything. In fact, my mom would be a different person.

Having a perfect conversation with my mom about my abuse would require her to BE a different person, and I guess that's part of why I'm so frustrated with her. I want her to be the kind of person I could lean on, but when I'm with her, I always feel like I have to stand separate, apart from her on my own two feet. She's just not emotionally reliable.

If for just ten seconds I could be vulnerable, I would say, "Mom going through all of that abuse was really hard for me. I'm trying desperately to recover, but it's such an uphill battle, and every time I start making progress, I feel like a rockslide hits me and makes it that much harder to climb. Sometimes, I worry that I'm stuck this way and I'll never 'recover,' that I'll be bitter and angry forever. Sometimes, I worry that I equate 'recovery' with 'it never happened,' which makes healing an impossible task, an unattainable goal. Sometimes, I'm afraid that I'm the only one who feels anything from it. Sometimes, I'm afraid that Briana and I are the only ones who feel anything from it. Sometimes, I worry that Briana, my dad, and I are the only ones who feel anything from it. And frankly, sometimes I'm afraid that Tommy, my dad, Briana and I are the only ones who feel any pain from the situation, who remember it and struggle with it. How can it be that you are the one person whose remorse, regret, fear, and pain I doubt? How can it be that the person that I most of all wish I could go to could actually be the person who seems the most uncaring? Can you do anything to alleviate this fear and doubt? To convince me of your love?"

And I would like my mom to answer, "Yes, of course I feel all of those things. I keep them locked up so tight and dark that they never appear at all. I repress everything related to your abuse because it is so hard for me to think about. I'm sorry that I never show you that pain. I didn't realize that you needed to see it. And now, your own repression makes sense to me. I'm sorry that I asked you if you ever loved your grandmother after she died. I'm sorry that I didn't see that you learned your repressive techniques from me. It is not your fault that you are so broken, I've tried to teach you how to be a woman, but I can see how I've failed in certain areas over the years, and I still expected you to be perfect. I love you, and I'm sorry I put you through that."

Maybe she would even say, "I know that you can heal because I am healing, too."

I think I feel stuck in the past because I don't see that my mom has ever healed from it, and I am paralyzed by her example. I wish I could be more independent in this regard now, that I could acknowledge that she is where she is, but glide past her on my own journey to healing. I don't have to be stuck with my mom. I don't have to stay with her and resent her and be the only one caring for her. I can move on without feeling guilty. In fact, that's the best thing for me.

And I'd like to think that if my mom were healthy and whole and healed, that's what she would want for me, too.