Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to be a mom. I knew nothing was going to get in my way of me holding my child in my arms forever. When I think of my strong desire to be a mother, I wonder where it stems from, but as I grew older that reason became apparent. I was born into the arms of a young couple who honestly were not ready for a baby. There is nothing wrong with not being ready for the child you did not plan for — that is natural. After all, they don't come with instructions. However, what's not OK is to be absent in your child's life, walk away from them, or continuously hurt them. You might be wondering as to why I am writing this, asking yourself how messy this is going to get. The truth is never easy to say, and my truth is I will never do to my (future) kids what you've done to me.

You claim the title of being my mother, that you brought me into this world, that you are the one who gave me life, and I must respect you. You took so much from me; you damaged me in a way I won't come back from, and that's OK. I thank you for that, only because it made me who I am today. Although you never took part in raising me, you forced me to realize an imperative life lesson: the people closest to you can hurt you the most. I idolized you, for no other reason than the fact that you were my mom. I just wanted you to love me as much as you loved yourself. I just wanted you to want me but, you didn't want to. Over the years you took bits and pieces from me, I doubted myself worth, questioned how anyone could want to be with me if my mother walked away?

I fell apart one too many times because of the war path you always traveled on. My family that you say is full of "strangers" and the woman who raised me that you say is my "fake" mom — well, they are the ones that wiped my tears and restored my trust and faith in the people closest to me. They reminded me how they love me so deeply and how they would alway be by my side, and they would never walk away from me.

It took me 20 years to come to see the light, to understand that my mother not wanting me was not my fault. It wasn't my fault that she dropped me off in a different country when things got too difficult for her. It wasn't my fault she wasn't the parent I needed, that she was so emotionally and physically absent from my life. It wasn't my fault when she felt like her heart was ripped out when she found out I never wanted to be like her. However, I blame myself, too. I am sorry, I expected so much from you day in and day out, how I thought you would want to be with me. I am sorry for letting you break my heart every time you had the chance, for expecting you to support me. I regret that I expected you to be my parent.

You missed out. You may think you know me so well; you know what's on the outside — what I look like when I am sad, what the sound of my laugh is, or what color lipstick looks good on me. But you don't know me from the inside, nor what makes me so incredibly happy, or what kind of sweets can turn my day around, and what book I can read a million times over and not get bored of it. You had a badass kid. It’s just too bad you chose not to be involved in my life. I have come to terms with the fact that I am not the one who missed out on a parent, but it is you who missed out on an amazing child.