2008-03-18
well, I'll be damned
Over the weekend I almost came in to work to use the computer and pour my heart out. Only I didn’t and now it’s not seeming to need pouring.
Saturday I found out for sure something I’d always suspected. My mother did not want a girl. She was disappointed when she gave birth to me. She had three boys, she didn’t expect a daughter, but more than that, she didn’t want a girl. She didn’t want a girl the first three times either. I’m now rather positive the only reason there was a fourth pregnancy was because she thought she couldn’t have a girl.
It hurt to find this out. Hurt a lot. But then it felt like a burden had been lifted off me. All my life I’ve tried to make up for what I could have, must have done wrong! What else could explain a mother, hell, my mother, not loving me, not thinking I’m good enough, not bothering with me. Somewhere in those early years I had to have done something wrong. What else could explain it? I’ve spent every moment trying to be a daughter she could be proud of.
Beating a dead horse is what you would call an understatement here. More like digging him up, cleaning him up, standing him upright, then trying to make him run a race. Not too many results for the effort involved.
I finally get that it’s not about me. It’s about not wanting to have a girl. I’ve spent my life taking the blame for a simple chromosomal event. Tons of people out there can’t have a child, would be thrilled with either sex so long as it’s healthy, and I get her.
Her voice has been silenced, something I never expected to happen. I thought I’d spend forever hearing her voice telling me I’m not good enough and never will be. So I won’t be for her. That’s her loss (and a loss it is!)
My name is Karen and I like myself.