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Feeling more resolute in where I stand with my mother right now, I speak my truth to my dad, realizing I’m holding a grudge against him because he stood by and watched this happen.
“My relationship with my mother officially crossed the threshold of toxic, and it’s not because she doesn’t care; it’s because she cares too much and has a shitty way of showing it,” I voice honestly. “Why didn’t you ever say anything to her, Dad? You’ve heard the things she’s said to me, and you never spoke up or defended me.”
“I did, sweetie. I warned her, but she assured me everything was fine. I figured the only way she’d listen was if you told her enough was enough.”
“Well, guess what? I did, and now the entire world knows about it.”
“Yes, well, that’s unfortunate. But I think this was the wake-up call you both needed. You needed to stand up to her, and she needed to know that she’s been wrong this entire time. Just promise me you two will work this out.”
“How are we supposed to do that three-thousand miles apart?”
“Well, how about you start right now by just telling her that you still love her because she’s your mom?” he says before turning the phone to the side where my mother is sitting, her face red and blotchy from crying.
“Charlotte?” I don’t say anything as tears well in my eyes again, and a few slip down my cheeks. “Honey, please say something to me.”
“What else do I need to say, Mom?”
“God, I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t realize…”
“No, you did. Dad just said he’s been telling you this entire time to back off, but you never stopped.”
She sucks in her lips and nods. “No, you’re right. He has. I just…”
“Listen, Mom. I love you. I always will, but I am tired of having this type of relationship with you.” God, it feels good to say that. “And Aunt Gigi told me that you sound just like grandma did, which makes a lot of sense if that’s how you grew up. But I don’t want to feel that way toward you anymore, so promise me something…”
“Yes, anything…”
“Deal with your issues from your childhood and I’ll deal with mine. Then don’t call me until you feel that you can talk to me without degrading the choices I’ve made with my life.”
Her lips tremble. “Charlotte…”
“I’m serious, Mom. I need some space from you, and I think we both need to talk to someone professionally. I love you, but I think it’s best if we don’t speak for a while until we’ve both had time to process all of this and how we want to move forward.” Damn. Look at me being all mature and shit, saying the things to her that I should have said years ago.
She nods. “Okay. I can do that.”
My father turns the phone back to him. “I think some space will do you both some good, but don’t shut each other out forever, Charlotte. I don’t want to have my two girls at war with one another. You both mean the world to me and I have faith that we can fix this.”
“Maybe we can talk in a month then? Or two? Set a timeline so we have to work on this?” I suggest.
He turns toward my mother and nods. “Yes, that would be good.”
“Okay. I love you both, but I’m beat. It’s been a long day and I need a shower.”
“Alright, Charlotte. We love you. Have a good night.”
“Love you too, Dad.” I end the call and then put my phone on the coffee table before bursting into tears, curling up in a ball as I realize that I finally had a mature conversation with my mother where I spoke up for myself and it felt so freeing. It sucked, and my heart feels like it’s breaking even more right now, but I also know it was the right thing to do. And I can’t share it with the one person I want to talk about it with. Not until I make things right with him first.
Staring up at the ceiling, I let my tears cascade down the side of my face, hoping they take some sorrow and confusion with them as they leave my body. Knowing that I’m headed in the right direction finally, I sit up on the couch, and as I look across the room, my eyes land on the notebook that Damien gave me on the carousel that night, and it hits me, that I know exactly how to show him that this was real. I just hope he gives me the chance.
