A cycle of pain, passed down through the years
Leaving scars and wounds that never fully heal
I lashed out in anger, words spoken in fear
But my son’s hurtful question made it all too real
I screamed at my son, I pushed him away
Said things I didn’t mean, in a moment of rage
But then I remembered my own childhood pain
And I knew I had to break free from that cage
My mother’s actions, her hurtful words
Echoed in my mind, leaving me feeling small
But I refuse to let that cycle continue
I won’t let my son feel like he’s not loved at all
I’ll break the cycle, I’ll be better than before
I won’t let my mother’s actions define me
I’ll show my son the love and care he deserves
And in doing so, I’ll set myself free
I wonder if my mother’s mother did the same
But that doesn’t matter now, it’s time to break the chain
I’ll be the mother we both need and deserve
And in doing so, I’ll wash away the pain
I don’t even remember what my son did that made me so mad, it was probably something small and insignificant. I was yelling and screaming and I told him I was going to send him to go live with his dad. He was crying hard, and he said to me, “Why do you hate me?” I didn’t. I told him I didn’t, at least I think I did. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was triggered and stuck in my own trauma of my mother doing the same thing to me. Except my mother went as far as to pack all my clothes up into boxes, and even tape the boxes shut. She wanted to send me to live with a man that molested his own daughter, her daughter, beat the crap out of her, was a registered sex offender, and she spoke often about how terrible of a person he was. She never apologized to me, not once. She even made me unpack all of the clothes and put them away and said, “There, maybe that will teach you a lesson. I can get rid of you any time I want.” So, not an excuse, but rather an explanation. I was in a trigger. I was stuck. I was experiencing an emotional flashback of trauma. I wonder now, if that’s what was happening every time I did something similar. I wonder now, if that’s all my mother was doing, too
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