Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

That song really sits deep in my soul. From as far back as I can remember, I always felt like my mother hated me. I always felt like I never truly had a mother.

I mean, obviously I was born. So I had someone give me life (technically two someones), but I have never truly felt like I had a mother.

Sometimes is an understatement. I feel like a motherless child constantly. Effervescently.

I feel as though I was failed. My mother failed me. She left me out in the cold. But not even just as a mother. She failed me as a woman. My mother was evil. She was very vindictive and more calculating than a math equation.

She took notes. She made 2+2=6 somehow, especially when she wanted something to go her way.

There’s not hiding the fact that I am currently harboring a lot of frustration and anger with my mother. As I lay in yet another hospital bed because of the neglect I’ve experienced. As I mentioned above, my mother failed me as a woman. She dismissed my pain. She dismissed me. She minimized my experiences because “every woman has pain with their periods”. She dismissed me.

Furthermore, my mother had a hysterectomy her early 40s. I never knew why she had one because I was too young to understand what that truly meant. And she also blatantly lied about her reason for losing both of her ovaries and her uterus. I recently discovered that endometriosis can be hereditary.

When I was child. Probably like 9 or 10. My mother had a hysterectomy and bilateral salpingectomy (removal of fallopian tubes and ovaries). And I’d you let her tell it, she had one because my father gave her AIDs because he was on the down low. Which, is not true in any form.

I remember the telephone ringing and the automatic message saying, “please leave a message for 303-574-0224 (yes I remember my childhood phone number. Don’t call this number idk who it belongs to now LOL) *BEEP*”. And an old college friend of my father left a voicemail saying he stumbled upon his number and wanted to meet for coffee to catch up. THIS was the man my father was allegedly having an affair with that gave my mother an incurable disease that caused her to lose her reproductive organs. 🙄

None of which is true.

My mother is a habitual and a pathological liar. When she doesn’t get her way she lies to make everyone else to appear as the villain. And to this day I still can’t even comprehend why she would make this up. And then proceed to spread this rumor around the school district I went to high school in.

I was never taught how to be a woman. I was never taught the importance of feminine hygiene. I was never taught that you shouldn’t ever be in this much pain during your period. I was not educated on the ins and outs of what it meant to be a woman, have female reproductive organs, and a menstrual cycle.

She failed me.

Alongside the woman my father is currently married to. Whom at one point I used to refer to her as my mother. That is the role she played, as good of actress as anyone, until her mask slipped.

According to her, I simply did not have a high tolerance for pain. I was mocked for having a “low tolerance” for pain. Instead of being treated with care and evaluated for my pain. I was just reduced to someone who couldn’t handle a little pain.

I was failed as a woman.

I was failed as a daughter.

I was failed as a patient.

I simply was failed.

And now I’ve had to make yet another sacrifice because others didn’t take the time to simply care about me.

I’ve been sterilized at the age of 29.

Though, I am happy to begin this next phase of my life and this next journey. The anger and borderline hatred I carry with me to the mother figures and medical professionals my whole life festers. And this is the beginning of that healing process.

16 years ago I started my womanhood when I began having a menstrual cycle. And that is the last time anyone took my pain seriously.

16 years later I’m dealing with the repercussions of that.

Due to the insensitivity and the lack of care for my pain I spent years of my life gaslighting myself. I continuously told myself that I was being a baby. That my pain was not real.

I spent years hearing the voice of my step mother telling me, “you need to heal from being raped and stop harboring that in your body. That is why sex is painful for you because you can’t let go of the past. Don’t make being raped your whole identity”.

So when my narcissisticly abusive ex complained about my menstrual cycles being too frequent and painful intercourse needing to be addressed, I tried to do that. I spent thousands of dollars on new birth control to get my periods to stop again. I tried to get the menstrual cups. And the silicone cups and anything that would help me to be to be able to have sex on my period. Because when I couldn’t please my ex. He got angry. Very very angry.

He sounded just like my step mother when he said that I couldn’t let go of my past trauma, which caused us to have to have vanilla sex. He couldn’t have sex with me any kind of way he wanted. So that made me invaluable to him. I reduced myself and gaslit myself because my abusers gave me the blueprint of how to do so.

I tried everything I could to change myself and my menstrual cycles. When the reality is, I had a medical condition. One that is fairly common. I have/had endometriosis. And I didn’t get diagnosed with it until a year and a half ago. When finally a doctor took me seriously and did an exploratory laparoscopic surgery to see if I had endometriosis. And what do you know? I did.

That explained everything. Instead of being dismissed, I was provided with answers and care. And my GYN was so frustrated that nobody cared enough to take a closer look. For 10 years.

No one believed me, until her. No one cared, until her. No one validated me, until her.

The trauma runs deep with this topic. And I plan on doing the work to rid myself of it like I did my actual uterus and reproductive organs (LOL). But it’s a deep level of pain, anger, trauma and a little bit of hate.

But unlike the endometriosis I won’t let the those emotions run rampant in my body. I will address it. I will acknowledge it. I will heal it. I will move forward.

But today, rightfully so must I add, I am feeling especially like a motherless child. A long way from home.

💜🙏🏽✨

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