If you have the power to say something that would almost put your therapist in tears then that should show you how much you’ve been repressed about something more powerful than you thought for all these years, my breakthrough almost broke her heart for me to say. And it’s all because of one word, or a phrase that people say all the time but nobody tells me. The fact that I do and don’t know what “love” is, still troubles me to this day. But why do I want it so bad? Maybe because I don’t know what it really is.
My mother is the definition of “STRONG BLACK WOMAN” (caps included), she’s the queen of surprises. She always been the one to show her “love” to me in special ways, but she’s never been one to say it. Ever since I was a little kid she’s never been the verbal type (or even affectionate), but she was always there when I needed something. She always wrote it on my birthday cards, I look forward to my birthday cards from her every year because it’s the only time where she picks the RIGHT card to display her feelings for me. The one time where she tells me that she’s proud of me and that she “loves” me… through Hallmark. Saying those words is the toughest thing for her to do, I witnessed this phenomenon once. One Thanksgiving my mother was talking to my brother and me about my niece (who was somewhat troubled at the time), saying that we might need a different approach to reach out to her. She was saying that maybe we need to tell her that we “love” her, then she tried it with us. When she said those magical 3 words to my brother and me, she cried. I know that was the toughest thing for her to do, but I honor her to this day for doing that. To this day, she never said it again. Put it this way, the one time she hugged me was the day my dad died.
My father, on the other hand, had no problem saying it but he always had a tough time showing it. See, my mother’s side had no problem showing it but did saying it and my dad’s side had no problem saying it but did showing it. Does that make sense? My father was always the one person I could count on to be told that I was “loved”, even if he had a hard time showing it. Even when he was intoxicated and leave me voicemails he would still say it, whether he meant it or not it was nice to hear it. I knew that when he passed away that nobody would ever say it to me again, and I was somewhat right. As immature as it sounds, I need to hear it sometimes. I need to believe them as well, if it sounds like I’m asking for too much it’s always one or the other but never both at the same time. That’s why I was curious if a “love” like that even exists, to say it and show it.
Before the session ended the therapist asked me if a particular person ever told me if she loved me, and I said “once… out of anger”.
Edit: My mother randomly sent me this text message the morning after posting this entry: 
Comments
Post a Comment