It took me so long to find the language I needed to describe both her behavior and the effects it had on me, and even now there are things I feel like I could have said better. For the purposes of publishing, I was going to make this a small collection of excerpts from the original letter. Instead, I have decided to post most of what I ended up sending because perhaps reading about the personal details of my experience will help someone suffering from the same kind of abuse identify their own.

I reread this letter with a very strong combination of pride and frustration. I'm so proud of the strides I have made in learning how to respect myself and what I need, knowing what love versus abuse looks like, and so on. In a way, this letter is like a thesis for my healing. And, much like a graduating senior, I can be proud of my work. Simultaneously, I'm so furious that I wrote this letter with the caution I did. Every time I read the words "that's not what I'm saying," or "please listen to me," I can't help but shudder. The fact that this letter still so clearly revolves around not angering or upsetting her and wreaks with desperation to fix something that is presumably unfixable is so heartbreaking. And (not "but"), I also have to understand that this letter was not only written for her, I also wrote this for me. I wrote this so I could finally talk without being uninterrupted. I wrote this so when my family members start pressuring me to break my own boundaries and resume communication with her for their own comfort and convenience (as they already have started to), I have something to send them that explains my side of the story. I am not the only one in my mother's web of lies and abuse, or the "FOG" (Fear, Obligation, and Guilt) as I've recently learned it's called. I wrote this as a very important step to opening a new chapter of healing and moving on. I hope you have the opportunity to do something similar.

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Mom,

I was not going to send you anything, as it's not anyone's job to teach anyone else about their actions. That falls on people and their own self-reflections. But, I'm going to try explaining why I'm so upset and heartbroken to you one last time. It's as frustrating as it is devastating, and I truly am at a loss for what else I can do.

And, for absolute and full clarity, let me start by saying that I love you. None of what has happened would be so upsetting if I didn't, nor would I be writing this letter as these memories are extremely upsetting for me to think about. I know you know this, but in the context of this conversation it's important to me that I emphasize how I am not a broken person because of any of what has happened. I have put in a lot of time and effort in both therapy and self-reflection to heal from everything that's happened in my life, and I am so proud of all that I have overcome. And so, I am not writing you this letter to look for an apology for me or my own healing, as I have learned how to give myself what I need to progress and keep growing. I'm writing you to hopefully convince you to be able to listen to me when I say you've hurt me, take true accountability for the first time, and change some of the behavior that continues to prevent me from having an honest relationship with you. Please hear me when I say that I know you love me, and that is truly never anything I have ever questioned. And, concurrently, loving someone doesn't give anyone the right to assume no responsibility/unconditional forgiveness without accountability when they mess up. In that same vein, I also know that you have been through a lot in your life, and I am not discounting that. Trauma is never the victim's fault, and the abuse you have faced is not yours. And, it is every victim's responsibility to ensure that they properly heal from what they have been through so they do not continue the vicious cycle.

I have tried to have this conversation with you before, both with macro and micro perspectives, isolated incidents and general observations. When I have tried, you have immediately jumped to, "so I was a terrible mother, fuck me then, never talk to me again and have a better life without me in it." That's not healthy or what I'm wanting. Push past your instincts to self-sabotage/write yourself off as a bad person, and then be open to hearing me and going to therapy.

Anytime I've tried to come you with issues about our relationship or incidents between the two of us I've been met with nothing but hostility and anger, and left questioning my own sanity/experience. I don't know how to navigate a relationship anyone who gaslights those they love to ease their own perception of life and themselves. In order to talk to you as my mom I have to devalue and ignore my trauma as your daughter, since you you refuse to acknowledge my experiences as real and valid. My experiences have always had to revolve around yours, and that's not normal or healthy. It has always been this way, this is not new.

When I said I wanted to quit ballet freshman year, you said that all the money you had spent on my lessons was a waste and how dare I waste your time and money like that.

When you were having suicidal thoughts/tendencies as a result of going off your antidepressants without doctor's advice, you said multiple times your only reason for staying alive was me. That's not an okay pressure to put on anyone, but especially your daughter in high school.

When you got wasted at my 17th birthday party, crawled on all fours up the stairs, and fell asleep on my bedroom floor in front of all my friends, I was obviously embarrassed and upset the next day. Then you, in response to my being disappointed, got angry with me and said I didn't understand what you were going through. You were not okay talking to me again until I apologized to you, having to swallow my own emotions and push aside my genuine feelings to do so.

When we tried going to therapy my senior year after I moved out (not "ran away," as I have heard you put it), you claimed the therapist was against you and that no one was understanding your side. You talked over me during the session about how you experienced things, refusing yet again to listen to how I was anxious and traumatized I was. You didn't listen to me then, and you still refuse to listen to me now.

When I (out of desperation) lived with you again a year after graduating high school, I realized that what I was paying in rent combined with our other 5 roommates was more than the actual rent on the house. When I asked you about overcharging me on rent and taking the difference for yourself, you said it was the least I could do for all the money you spent on raising me over the years. You pocketed $750 from your daughter over the course of 5 months.

Through therapy I have done a lot of work to heal from these moments and others. They are, thankfully, mostly occurring in high school or the year that followed, as once I was able to physically distance myself from you I naturally became less exposed to your toxicity. I'm not bringing these memories up for any other purpose than trying to illustrate the pattern of lashing out that you have and how much it has/continues to traumatize me. It has happened absolutely anytime I have tried to have a conversation with you about something you did to upset, hurt, anger, or sadden me. You become mean, delegitimize my pain/emotions, take away my accomplishments as your own (as seen in your most recent text, "you wouldn't be the strong person you are today if I'd done it all so poorly"), and make me feel like absolute shit for having the wherewithal to question toxic behavior. Your seeing any attempt by people in your life to address an issue with your actions as them refusing to understand your side/ignoring how you're feeling/calling you a bad person means you are living in a very extreme and dangerous binary that will not yield to productive or truly honest conversations. My intent has never been to write you off, tell you you're a bad person, or try to get you out of my life. In fact, it's been the opposite. By continuing to attempt this conversation I'm desperately trying to KEEP you in my life. Unfortunately that part never gets heard as you become too busy spiraling into "I'm the worst mother ever" to listen to what I'm truly saying.

You can't say "you're right" without blaming your environment for your actions or saying "every parent messes up," and refusing to take personal accountability. However, your actions are YOURS and yours alone. No one made you say or do anything in the past. I cannot emphasize enough how much it would mean to me for you at the very least acknowledge what has gone wrong, but still you refuse. You've often said during these conversations that you're sick of me "rewriting my childhood," when really the opposite is true. You rewrite my childhood, claiming I was a happy and outgoing kid, when, while that was true in some environments, mostly I was absolutely terrified of upsetting you every second of every day. Everything I did was with not the fear of God as you would have liked, but with fear of your weaponized disappointment. My friends saw it, my friends' parents saw it, my teachers saw it. I felt it.

I want my mom. I want the mom who was part of the good memories (of which there are still a lot). The adventurous, proud of her daughter mom. The one I can actually openly talk to about anything for the first time in my life. I want a mom that admits when she fucks up and apologizes genuinely. I want to have you in my life so desperately. I truly can't do that until something changes. I have grown far past the point of allowing anyone in my life to stay amidst toxic behavior with no accountability. I refuse to keep putting myself in the vicious cycle and am taking myself out of the equation. I am ceasing direct communication with you until I can do so without anxiety/having to forfeit my own well-being. Please respect the boundary I am setting.

I love you. Do not reach out to me or respond to this letter. I will come to you when I feel I can do so.

- Grey