An Open Letter

Dear Momma,

You came into my life when I was 16. I was lost, confused, and broken. I had built up walls so high that I thought no one could climb them. I hated the whole world. I believed that I was unlovable. I was angry, but mostly, I was terrified. I had been alone for so long, with only my sister. I thought everyone was out to hurt me, and I was convinced that I would never, ever, let anyone in and give them the opportunity to break me again. Little did I know, my whole life was about to change.

When we first met, I had no idea that I was going to love you. I was afraid of meeting you. Parents scared me. I thought that since my own parents couldn’t love me, then there was no way that anyone could. I tried to put on a show, have composure, anything to keep you from seeing how sad I was inside. Sadness makes people run away, I’d learned that a long time ago. I was used to pretending that I was fine. You saw right through it, though, which only petrified me more. I tried to avoid you, and everyone, really. I didn’t want you to pity me. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me.

You were patient with me. You waited weeks for me to come out of my room. You were kind, and I appreciated it, but I didn’t know how to be a part of a family. I was so used to being alone, and didn’t adapt well to change. Eventually, you were tired of waiting, and you forced me to participate in family meetings and dinner. I tried to hold myself together and play along, but I couldn’t. I fell to pieces. I resented you for pulling me out of my comfort zone. I hated the hugs, the movies, the family meals, the shopping trips, and everything. I was beginning to love you and your family, and I absolutely hated it. I wanted to be reclusive. I wanted to hide in my room and not feel anything, as I was used to. I thought it would hurt less that way, because I knew that one day you would change your mind and not want me anymore. And, the more time I spent with you, the more it would hurt me when you inevitably abandoned me, too.

I was falling in love with the family that you were giving me. I hated that I loved you all. I swore to myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t let myself open up and love anyone again. But, little by little, you encouraged me to let you in. And I did. I let you see all the broken parts that my own mother had ran from. Inside, I was just a sad little girl who just needed a mother. I though once you saw that side of me, you would run away, too. You didn’t. You stayed and you loved me. You saw my temper and my anger, and you still stayed. You helped me by teaching me to count when I was angry instead of exploding.

You were slowly teaching me to be myself, the girl under all of the hurt. You showed me that I can be loved. You let me make mistakes, a lot of them, I might add. You never got angry when I cried for my biological mother, because you knew that the scars she left ran deep. Instead, you would remind me that it’s her loss and your gain. You still loved me through the heartbreaks that I went through. From the guy who cheated on me (again, you said it was his loss) to the guy that I pushed away because I was afraid of being hurt. You came to my high school graduation and you were so proud of me. You helped me shop for college and supported me when I spontaneously chose a new college two days before move-in day. You encouraged me to go out of my comfort zone in search of the life I want.

You will never know how much you mean to me. I am so thankful for you and all that you do. You loved me when you didn’t have to, and you stayed in my life when no one else would. I can come to you with anything and you will still love me. You’ve never judged me or made me feel unwanted. You treated me as your own child, and you showed me the true meaning of family. I know that wherever I go, you’ll be right behind me, supporting me on my journey to find what sets my soul on fire. You are one of my greatest blessings. You showed me that sometimes, you can choose your family, that blood does not measure love, and that every goodbye is a second chance. That everyone is worthy of a mother’s love. I love you so much.

Love,

Your Un-Biological Daughter