(and you know who you are)

My best friend, my confidant. The one I was most vulnerable around. I could finally let my guard down around you because you let me be my authentic self and praised me for it, built my foundation on it and then built a fortress around me made of courage and love.

Oh, how wrong I was. Of all the wrongs I have ever had to admit, this one hurt the worst.

That fortress you built for me was nothing more than a glorified trap.

We practically grew up together. I defended you vehemently against your own siblings and parents who were constantly bullying you and warning me to “watch out – she lies about EVERYTHING!” I would snap back in their faces that they didn’t deserve you. You were too good for them. “An angel on this earth” I called you once.

I see it now, so very clearly, and my god how I want to kick myself for not listening to your family. That’s on me. When I confronted you about your behavior and the lies surrounding it, you were incensed. Instead of confessing the truth and moving on, you went absolutely balls-to-the-wall ballistic and went all in doing the only thing you are truly good at – throwing fits and lying.

You tried turning the tables on me, but I was already onto your game. It’s the same manipulative game your older brother and your father play: “Do as much damage and cause as much chaos as possible before the truth comes out about me.”

And you were successful for a little while, I’ll give you that, longer than I would like to admit. You managed to drive a wedge between me and my own flesh and blood.
My children.
My daughters and I didn’t speak for 3 years because of what you filled their heads with. You somehow managed to make your outlandish tales believable.

Fuck you for being so goddamn likable and playing the victim so very well.

You’re like a cuckoo bird. You infiltrated the nest making yourself so convenient to them AFTER you knocked me out of the way. You were just another one of their aunts before who was rarely a part of their everyday lives.
How quickly that changed because you couldn’t let your secrets get out. So, you destroyed the reputation of the only person who could expose you and then literally tried to be my replacement. You had everyone fooled and it baffles me to this day. All I could do at the time was sit back and hope you exposed your true colors eventually. For now, unfortunately, you are still in my girls’ lives, and I can’t do anything about that.

Here’s the thing: I don’t care how angry I might be or how much I hate someone, my instinct would never, and I mean NEVER, be to deliberately attack the bond between a mother and her children. Only someone with pure evil in their soul does that.

You will never know the depths of despair and anguish I was in. You can’t begin to fathom that kind of hurt when a mother is separated from her child in such a traumatizing way. I gathered myself into a sobbing pile of atoms and matter every day just to pretend to be useful for months on end. All the while, you were there in their energy, watching them give birth, giving MY grandchildren hugs and kisses, knowing damn good and well YOU caused all of this chaos and division.

And you smiled anyway.

I wonder who else has gotten a glimpse of the real you and run for their lives like I did? Who else has seen your delusional fits of rage? Does anyone else know how mentally unwell you really are?

God help you before you hurt more people.
I do hope you find peace one day. I hope you find someone you truly love.
And then I hope the rug gets snatched from beneath you and you weep – real tears. At least then I might be able to allow myself to feel some pity for you.
But offering you compassion or forgiveness in any shape or form feels like I’m diminishing the serious nature of your offense, and I can’t let myself into that head space because I don’t feel forgiveness for you.
I’m not sure I ever will.

The difference between us, you see, is that I can feel these feelings and not let them take over my entire sense of reasoning enough to allow me to destroy someone.
I can admit when I am weak and when I am wrong. More importantly, I don’t run from the truth, and I certainly don’t wreak havoc on innocent lives because I’m afraid of being caught.

Like Dorian Gray, I hope you look at yourself one day only to see the grotesque nature of your life choices oozing out of every pore, every orifice. Then realize you have no one to run to, nowhere to hide from the thing that scares you most – yourself.

My life has more meaning without your influence in it, but I can remember a time when I thought the exact opposite and couldn’t bear to imagine my life (or the lives of my children) without you. I’ve learned a lot in these last few years. For instance, I never knew I could love someone so deeply and then be able to remove that love so completely and without questioning my own judgment in the process. I honestly think the only reason I can do that is not because you hurt me, but because you hurt my children. You of all people know what a “mama bear” I am, after all.

The most important thing I learned is that my daughters are resilient, and so am I. They saw the worst in two people who loved them, and I know I was one of those people. I hope they also saw that I remained responsible for what I did with my pain. “Hurt people hurt people” does not absolve anyone of that responsibility.
Not even me.

My daughters are more forgiving than I am. I’m proud of them for that. We have found our way back to one another, and we are still building a relationship strong enough to hold what happened without letting it define us.

I cannot get those three years back. I will always grieve them. But there is more to our lives than what we lost, and I intend to be present for it.