My Addiction

Dear mom,

Let me finally be honest with you. I am not the innocent daughter that you believed I was for all of my life. I have lied to you so many times, because of the shame that I felt. No I did not eat too much ice cream this week or anything like that. Before I tell you, I want to say - in my eyes, you are the greatest mother on planet earth. After all that you’ve been through in your own life, I couldn’t bare to confess to you who I was becoming and who I am now. I knew you wanted a much better life for me than you had, and although that has happened, there are moments where I do wish things were more ‘perfect’. You have seen the many dark sides of me and have forgiven me for everything before I had even done it. Unconditional love – that is what I have in my life because YOU exist. But I feel as though I don’t deserve it sometimes.

I know what you’ll say: “Mylochka, my darling, you can always tell me anything. Nothing you ever confess to me will make me love you less. I am your mother; you are mine and I am yours.”

But mom, what I’m about to tell you has grown in me and has began to eat me alive. It has been my biggest enemy since I was about 5 years old. Yes, the 5 year old girl you took care of, even back then, was struggling with this addiction. And the amount of shame that grew in me as this shadowed my life for so many years, has kept me silent. Mostly, because I don’t know how to tell you.

When I was 5, and we still lived in Ukraine, do you remember inviting over your friend and her son?

Although the son was 14, obviously much older than me, he appeared to be kind enough to play with me while you and your friend were catching up. What I did not know back then, being so young and unaware, was that he did not want to just play. Or at least, his idea of play was much different from mine.

Needless to say, I was exposed. I was brought into the adult world far too early and far too unkindly. But how could I have realised? At the time, I didn’t even know what he did was wrong. I really thought that we were just playing a game. Mom, if I told you that this happened to me, you would never forgive yourself for not protecting me, and for bringing him into our home. And that’s why I can never let you see this letter.

Ever since then, I had a complete misunderstanding of what intimacy was – how, when, and with whom it should be done. From a young age, I became a very provocative girl, and gave myself away to many people, bad people. I hid it all from you, because of the morals you taught me. I could never confess to you what I had already done with so many people, as you were just beginning to teach me about this stuff. I pretended like I didn’t know anything about the topic. Although I cannot blame this one moment for my mistakes, I will say that since that day, I believe that I was exposed to something too early and as a result, became addicted to it. At one point, it felt like it was all I truly knew.

Why do I feel shame, you ask? It wasn’t my fault - you might say. But I felt pleasure from this addiction, hence it being an addiction.. And that is what shamed me. I knew it was wrong, and I knew I was not who I was supposed to be, being so young. But it drew me in each time like a drug. I wish I had never experienced it, so that I could wake up each day as a pre-teen and teen, and now being 19, feeling like I am the daughter you wanted me to become. A daughter who chose to save herself despite what happened early on. Someone who had some dignity.

Knowing that what you believe is a lie - it hurts me, it worries me sometimes - but not as much as telling you about all this.

Mom, I love you more than anything in the world. I want you to know that nothing that has ever happened to me is your fault. Things happen. We adapt and we overcome. But certain complications can sometimes silence us out of shock. That is what I’m still going through.

Thank you for everything, and for protecting me with all your strength my whole life. I’m sorry that I’m a sex addict. And I’m sorry for hiding it from you. It hinders my life and my mental health, yes. But you are my strength when it all becomes too much. One day I will get help. And I hope that on that day, I can be courageous enough to finally give you this letter. But for today, enjoy the beautiful day dedicated to you, as you should. Happy Mother’s Day.

Yours,

Myla