I am… still here

I am a mother trying to do her best
I wonder if my mother felt this way too
I hear people tell me that I’m not her- that I won’t hurt them like she hurt me
I see my happiness but I can’t always feel it
I want to do right for my children
I am trying so hard every single day.

I pretend that I am not always hurting
I feel like a liar and a fake
I touch their cheeks while they sleep
I worry- of course
I cry and hate myself too often
I am a woman trying to be a person

I understand how lucky I truly am
I say that I will keep myself safe
I dream of what quiet could feel like
I try to stop thinking and follow the rules that I set for myself
I hope that my children don’t hurt like I do
I am proud of each day I live to give them a mother

spirit driftwood


This “I am” poem is the third iteration I’ve written.
The first two were in 2013. You can read them here and here

Linking up again for Old School Blogging. Thanks to Kim @ makemommygosomethingsomething.com for the inspiration.


One thought on “I am… still here

  1. This resonated so much with me.
    I think this all the time and it’s because I grew up in “that” home too.
    And I think this is where the line of abuse stops because we are consciously aware of our actions — we know what is right and wrong and we FEEL guilt and we say sorry when we do wrong and say sorry even when we don’t need to (but we do just in case).
    No matter how many times Shawn tells me that I’m a good mom or how many things I pin that tells me that all I need to be is good enough or how many times my kid tells me he loves me I still think I’m screwing up somehow.
    I wish I had a magic answer.
    But know this, we are better than them. Our children will never know the depths of hell we experienced.
    We are not perfect and never will be perfect but we love fiercely even during the darkest of times — and that is good enough. xoxoxo


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