Childhood
What You Still Refuse To Hear
I've been labeled the black sheep, the liar. Everyone knew I wasn't lying. It was much less messy to blame the child than to stop the pain. It had to be a lie. But it wasn't a lie. It was the truth, every time I told you, and it never stopped. You could have stopped it!
By Brenda Gooding4 years ago in Confessions
A Mind of Your Own
Hey Mom. I never told you this before, but... on that fateful night, I had a dreadful dream about our future as a family together. Much like déjà vu, my mind had forgotten the endless love that we shared and cared for. It had also imprisoned my eyelids in an involuntary state of nervous rippling, as if caught in an immobilising spell of suspended memory replays. When they finally popped open, I vaguely remembered the events in which I had lost you to the depths of this familiar velvety darkness that consumed you entirely and so unsparingly. In my wake, I could not save you from the demons that you were so enraptured by. The only stark detail that I can dredge up is the moment you were sprawled on the floor in your usual drunken stupor, completely unaware and steeped in your drenched, soiled pajamas.
By Hijjab Shah4 years ago in Confessions
The Time is Now:
Today, and I'm not sure why, and of all days, it is inconceivable that this day I would be strong enough to tell you; to divulge to you and... well, To unburden me of what I've been trying to unburden me of for eons, or let's say, my lifetime..., since I was nine. The time passed so quickly..., so very, very quickly while I was working diligently on the pure anxiety, guilt, and sense of self-loathing that originated from this event - the event I surmised, with help, of course, was the origin of all my terrible troubles! I have worked hard to get to this point: to the end of all of my suffering when I could, like, I said before, unburden myself to you.
By Jane Brant4 years ago in Confessions
To My Best Friend
I was sixteen when I had to witness my mom's downfall. My parents sat me down in our kitchen, where we used to cook and dance around in the refrigerator light. My dad told me he was going to leave us, chasing happiness that he couldn't find in the depth of our love for him. They told me it wasn't my fault, people change and evolve, and sometimes things don't fit your life the way they used to. As my beloved dad told me his intentions with a coldness that made my mom and I shiver, I bawled my eyes out. My dad was my idea of a respectable man who put his needs second and his family first, and he shaped the idea of my dream man. Those life-changing sentences seemed empty after years spent in a picture-perfect marriage. What could have changed in so little time?
By Martina I.4 years ago in Confessions
Cloth Mother // Wire Mother
I am eight, you tell me not to paint my nails red, lest I look like a slut. I have long held the life philosophy that, when it comes to non-essential desires, people only want what they can’t have. But recently I have added a second life philosophy: no matter the relationship, no matter if she’s not in their life or not even alive, when faced with an unpleasant or unbearable situation that they are powerless to stop, people turn to their mother for comfort. There is some innate, hardwired desire within us all that still aches for a mother’s love, guidance, protection. Maybe I’m a genius, or maybe I just reinvented Harlow.
By Eliza Arkelyan4 years ago in Confessions
Little Secrets
Hey momma, you always said I was a good child. In many ways, you told me how grateful you were to be blessed with me. You said many parents were terrified when their children turned teenagers because they didn't know what to expect. For many, it was a rollercoaster of drugs, sex, alcohol, calls from the principal's office, and, fluctuating grades. But I never gave you a reason to worry. My grades were top-notch and I was well-behaved. Maybe I was a good child. But every child has done some bad things. Things that I hoped you'd never find out. Some of them silly, some of them sad, some of them I feel a little guilty about because now that I'm much older, I realize they weren't altogether necessary. I'll start with a little lie I told.
By Two Siblings4 years ago in Confessions
"A Fall For Attention"
This will be the first time I’ve shared this secret and I know my mom will be shocked if she ever finds out. Even as an adult I do not think I want to admit my truth, although it’s funny now that I think about it, back then it would’ve gotten me in a lot of trouble had my mom known what really happened. Ok here it goes, back in the early nineties I was around ten years old, me, my mom and sister temporarily lived with my grandmother and other family members. It was a total of eleven people in one house and I was always finding ways to get attention from my mom and my family members in the house. I was a very active kid and I always wanted to be seen and heard, I would do something outrageous just to get some kind of reaction from someone in the house we lived in. For example, my uncle had a Sega Genesis, and when he went to work, I would sneak in his bedroom and play his video games. One day I was playing the video game and I glanced to my left and on my uncle's dresser, I noticed he had some clippers laying there. I turned the game off and became “Curious Cathy” and started to examine the clippers.
By Paris Fenison4 years ago in Confessions
Before
Hey mom I never told you this, but that’s because I know it’s something any mother would dread to hear. The truth is, you made me from scratch, from the moment I was born it was obvious I was your child, I had your glistening green eyes and hopeful smile. As a baby my fingers, so tiny and delicate, would cling onto you because I knew you could keep me safe and protect me from the corrupt mess the world had become. You would hold me tight and sing me songs as I would fall asleep then you would watch me feeling accomplishment for making a child who was so beautiful and wonderful.
By Eva Bannon4 years ago in Confessions
