TOPIC OF YOUR CHOICE
One moment marked the beginning of the end. This was an aching I had never experienced. Her words slashed through me easily as she poked in various areas trying to find my breaking point. One slap was my attempt to halt the vicious cycle. My shaking body conformed the reality of my violent action. Her words intruded upon my normally gentle disposition as she accused me of loving my father more. If only she knew this moment was both a self-fulfilling prophecy and also the beginning of my distrust. My hand encountered her contorted face and this was the death of our relationship. I would spend the next year in my room peeling back my naive layers facing the truth of my mom. The fibers of my umbilical cord had been severed. I slipped into an unconscious state without the central pull that had fostered my growth physically and mentally. She built me into what I had become, so who was I now?
I have spent the last year trying to rebuild myself, sorting through the piles of what had come apart. I lost trust in my mom and any faith I had in myself went along with it. Lies, manipulation, and narcissism were the name of her game, and I did not know how to play. She circled around my innocent mind as I attempted to find my way out of her grasp. I freed myself by sorting through the blur of emotions, events, and truths. I intially believed I would have to rebuild my entire identity. But I discovered hat in actuality, I am not myelf because of my mother. I am much more than petty lies and schemes. I believe in the vital importance of giggles and hugs. I take pride in my left armpit having never grown a single hair. I love Mary Oliver and Nicki Minaj and wish I had both of their aptitudes. I have written down the words of my imagination's dictionary. I love poetry slams and root vegetables. I have full itnentions to skydive as soon as I turn 18. I rediscovered who I am. The frustrating relapse into myself reinforced my aspirations and individuality.
One moment marked the beginning of the end. This was an aching I had never experienced. Her words slashed through me easily as she poked in various areas trying to find my breaking point. One slap was my attempt to halt the vicious cycle. My shaking body conformed the reality of my violent action. Her words intruded upon my normally gentle disposition as she accused me of loving my father more. If only she knew this moment was both a self-fulfilling prophecy and also the beginning of my distrust. My hand encountered her contorted face and this was the death of our relationship. I would spend the next year in my room peeling back my naive layers facing the truth of my mom. The fibers of my umbilical cord had been severed. I slipped into an unconscious state without the central pull that had fostered my growth physically and mentally. She built me into what I had become, so who was I now?
I have spent the last year trying to rebuild myself, sorting through the piles of what had come apart. I lost trust in my mom and any faith I had in myself went along with it. Lies, manipulation, and narcissism were the name of her game, and I did not know how to play. She circled around my innocent mind as I attempted to find my way out of her grasp. I freed myself by sorting through the blur of emotions, events, and truths. I intially believed I would have to rebuild my entire identity. But I discovered hat in actuality, I am not myelf because of my mother. I am much more than petty lies and schemes. I believe in the vital importance of giggles and hugs. I take pride in my left armpit having never grown a single hair. I love Mary Oliver and Nicki Minaj and wish I had both of their aptitudes. I have written down the words of my imagination's dictionary. I love poetry slams and root vegetables. I have full itnentions to skydive as soon as I turn 18. I rediscovered who I am. The frustrating relapse into myself reinforced my aspirations and individuality.