Mama

They wouldn't tell me who you are, who you were.

"I love that lady."

Do you remember that day at Chuckee Cheese? I was terrified of the ball pit. My overactive imagination thought the multi-colored plastic balls were swallowing the other children. I didn't understand that there was a net at the bottom. Catching them. Keeping them safe. I was sure that it was endless and that if I went in I would never came out. You held me near the entrance, you explained to me how it worked. We would take individual balls out so I could hold them. So I could feel their weight. You helped me understand. You patiently taught me until I was no longer afraid.

They didn't tell me you were my mother. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen you before that day.

"I love that lady."

Those words brought the hatred and the jealousy that so often escaped her mouth.

She was my mother now and that meant that there was no more room for your love. Or my love for you. I learned quickly never to say it again. You were no longer my mother. This is where I would stay. This is where I lived. With the woman who would laugh at my fear. Who would make fun of the way I saw the world.

Who knew love could incite such a response?

She would tell me that I was messed up because of what you did. How you dropped me on my head too many times. The only one I remember hurting me was her. She ruled with her fist, and she was strong.

I was too wild, I wouldn't listen. I wouldn't obey.

She was used to training dogs. I don't think she knew what to do with children.

I think the cold that I feel within my body is from her. The cold that slowly seeps in and makes it hard for me to move. Hard for me to concentrate. Hard for me to feel like it will ever go away.

You know how I know I am your child?

Dancing makes it better. Dancing makes it stop hurting. Dancing and music. I can hear the music and I'm back with you. I'm at the punk shows holding your hand and the wild energy connects us.

She tried to beat it out of me. Didn't want me to end up like you. Said that I was too clumsy to dance.

Fear is what made me clumsy. The fear that the way I was would never be right. I would never be good enough.

This fear has stayed with me for too long. I kept letting it guide me. Letting her voice win. I kept pushing myself farther and farther away from what made me happy in order to please someone who would never love me.

I won't give up though. I dance. I feel home at live shows where everyone is dancing together. The energy is encompassing, electric. Our frantic heartbeats coming together in expressions of love.

When I am really sad and alone, I still dance so that I can remember being with you, and in those moments it feels as if we were never apart.

I am learning to trust myself. So that I am no longer afraid.

I need you though. And you need me. And we need each other.

We have to take their words of hatred and fill the room with love.

Te amo.