Dear Bio-Mom

My first thought was to rehash all the things that have brought us to this moment, to this state of being with each other. It is all too easy to stand on a soapbox and itemize all the ways in which you have hurt my Beloved and these tender children. I was right there on the sidelines through so much of it, privy to every word from every person around you, including your children and my Beloved, your family, your friends. So believe that I DO KNOW whereof I speak were I to give discourse on your many horrible choices.

You know the Truth of it, too, or you would not be so unhappy and angry and bitter. You wouldn’t continue to surround yourself with hostile, self-serving alcoholics: yourself one of these. If you weren’t hiding from the Truth, you wouldn’t hate me so much or slander me so much for holding you ACCOUNTABLE for the harm you’ve done and continue to do.

So we’ll leave  in the past your affair soon after your marriage vows, soon after my Beloved was deployed to serve our country in a Middle-Eastern country, an affair which left you pregnant with a  child you hated and never wanted, whom my Beloved has raised as his own knowing fully of your betrayal. That we may leave in the past,  as you never wanted my Beloved and the man you wanted, the reason you got pregnant (to snare that man), was married with six kids of his own and HE DIDN’T WANT YOU. It stays in the past because the marriage you never wanted is over.

I WANT to leave in the past all the things you’ve done. As a woman, I MAY do that.

As a mother of 20 years, as a stepmother to my Beloved’s children, I CANNOT leave in the past the harm you have done and refuse to acknowledge.

Do you remember your daughter’s ANGUISH while you were having an affair with Dave, the biker thug, while Daddy was deployed (again)? What were you thinking to make them sleep in a stifling SUV in 100-plus-degree heat in El Paso while you cozied up with Dave in a camping trailer? What were you thinking when you locked the kids out of the house to have a romp with Dave, which the kids heard? And then you told them that you two “weren’t feeling well,” that THAT’S what all those sounds were. What were you thinking when you neglected to buy food and let the poor kids scavenge for whatever canned goods remained? The only meals they had were school-provided lunches BECAUSE OF MY BELOVED. You certainly didn’t communicate with teachers or the school to make sure they were eating…or doing anything, for that matter. But you had time the second they left for school to “entertain” Dave. AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO SLANDER ME ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP WITH MY BELOVED!!!!!  You don’t know the first thing about a healthy relationship that blooms from adversity. But we’ll perhaps leave that in the past, woman-to-woman. I am confident in my Beloved and in Us, and I don’t need validation from YOU.

What were you thinking when the school repeatedly tried to contact you by phone, email, and letters because your children were malnourished and un-bathed?

But I imagine I know…

Remember that I was there, I SAW you while you holed up in the dark, closed garage and smoked and drank. I SAW filthy, scrawny kids running amok unsupervised and STARVING for your affection and attention, which you withheld mercilessly as you smoked and drank and waved your hand at them and told them to “go away.” I was THERE. I SAW. I HEARD.

And that’s why you hate me. Because I testified to your lowest moment.

It wasn’t because I don’t understand. I’m a mother. I was a military spouse. I KNOW what it feels like to be overwhelmed, to want to JUST RUN AWAY.

But we don’t do that.

We DO NOT hurt our children.

We do not starve them, and not bathe them, and dump them in Mexico. YES, DUMPED! OWN IT! It wasn’t a vacation to the grandparents. Your own mother thought the kids would be there for only a week and she tried for MONTHS to reach you to come get them. She emailed your siblings; she emailed my Beloved OVERSEAS!

YOU…ABANDONED…YOUR CHILDREN. You need to own that. It is something that your children will never forget. They have begged me, in tears, not to ever let anyone take them back to Mexico ever again. Of course you think this a lie because Truth HURTS. The Truth is still hurting these kids, and no matter how much Entertaining you do on your weekend visits, they will one day grow up and hold you accountable for what you did.

You told them, before taking them to Mexico and before telling their father, that you were divorcing. Then you left them.

YOU…LEFT.

What did you think would happen? Did you really think my Beloved would roll over and give you all his money and babysit the kids until you felt like seeing them? You were none-too-happy when he cut you off financially. And you were none-too-happy when I was there to help him (when you FINALLY went WITH DAVE to get the kids). You broke the kids, you broke the family, you broke my Beloved, who already had PTSD.

But we should all be understanding and make it all ok for you because YOU’RE the real victim. Some trusted man in your childhood hurt you in ways you can’t remember. And now you’re dating your father (figuratively), while having not spoken to your Father (who raised your rebellious, disrespectful, drunken, promiscuous…butt) in twenty years. YOU’RE the victim for marrying a man who loved the person inside of you but you didn’t want him and thought you’d never do any better. YOU’RE the victim because you got pregnant to snare another man AND YOU NEVER WANTED TO BE A MOTHER. To make matters worse, in order to save your marriage (to your mind), you kept having children with my Beloved. You didn’t want them. You didn’t want him. You got fatter after the first child and thought you’d never get out of motherhood or the marriage.

Oh but you liked the ATTENTION mothers get: from kids, from teachers, from friends.

Until you screw up and hurt the kids, then you want us all to go away and you hate us and lie about us and use the kids to hurt us.

But you’re still hurting the kids by doing all that!

You took tens of thousands of dollars while my Beloved was deployed. You got gastric bypass and boob implants and tucks here and there. But you were still drinking and smoking and didn’t take care of yourself, so now your body is a train wreck. You are 5 years younger than me and look TWENY YEARS OLDER! AND you’re gaining back the weight you lost! You never went to the counseling before, during, and/or after the surgeries. You’ve never gone to counseling, period, because, as you’ve said many times, “I’m just fine. Everyone else is messed up.” And of course I have nothing better to do than lie about you.

We don’t talk about you to the kids, not negatively. We don’t discuss our distress with you where they can hear (although your cat’s paw, the first-born, the one who craves your SHADOW, can be found lurking to overhear and report back to you). We encourage them to share joy of you, of their visits with you. Despite what you believe, we do not slander you to them. And you hate me for that, too: for telling them that “mom is broken and we need to be patient and loving with her.” How dare I point out your pain and incapability to your children! How dare I teach them Compassion within the pain you’ve caused and continue to cause!

And our poor oldest one (yes, OUR, my Beloved’s non-biological with you and raised in THIS HOUSE…so mine, too…OURS), whom you’ve spent his whole life telling him you didn’t want him and that he’s stupid. You had him meet his biological father while my Beloved was deployed. And THAT MAN didn’t want the boy! So now he knows that you never wanted him, his biodad doesn’t want him, AND YOU LEFT. But how you use him! You fuel his pain and his anger with your own, and you turn him on ME. You tell “OUR” daughter that their father is supposed to be protecting them from me, that I’m harmful and he’s a failure as a father, and “just be strong awhile longer, baby girl.” A while longer? You didn’t even get an attorney to fight for custody! You represented yourself and insulted the judge! What does it tell you that the judge thought the best interests of the children were served in their father’s care, a man with PTSD and on Active Duty, rather than with YOU. So you think you’ll magically find a small fortune to think about maybe suing for custody?

No. You tell the children that when they’re 12 they can petition to live where they want.

But you DON’T tell them that the judge holds a hearing and reviews both parties’ lifestyles. You drink, associate with bikers in an organization under constant scrutiny by the Federal Government, you’ve made no effort to improve your living conditions in order to provide a home for FOUR children (a two bedroom duplex in a neighborhood echoing with gunshots every night is NOT going to win a judge). You don’t read to the kids or encourage reading. You provide Entertainment: video games, movies. Nothing of substance.

WE have moved our blended family to one of the best communities in the State, with best schools in the State. We participate in their projects. We meet regularly with teachers. WE READ and Encourage Reading in our home! Yes, I know you read your romance and fantasy, still trying to run and hide. But we have the children read every night. All of them have ACHIEVED scholastically since YOU LEFT and we came together, since WE have participated in them and in this family.

No judge will see YOU as the better option.

I want to let all this anger go. I want to forgive you and respect you.

But how can I when you still won’t get help? When you still think you’re “just fine?” How can I let go of all this and see you as a person when you insist on living like a dog? When you hate and seethe and slander, when you use the children, when you still won’t acknowledge what you’ve done to bring us all here in pain or what WE/I’VE done to help us all survive you?

It’s ok to be unable to be a mom. I know you still love the kids.

But please see that I’m not the enemy and never have been.

I can’t make you see your Truth. But I implore you to get on the right side of your pain and anger and shame.

~ by Stepfamily Letter Project on March 17, 2011.

One Response to “Dear Bio-Mom”

  1. You GO girl! I felt like you were talking to my DH’s BM

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