Posted in Life, Mom

In dreams (Part two – The realization)

I took my broken heart and left Mom for the day. I realized just how wounded her words had left me, and how much I was yearning for her love and recognition. Still, to this day, no matter the mantra and how strong or how weak I’ve become, everything is still the same, including me. Coming back over and over, at times I felt like a glutton for punishment that just wouldn’t and couldn’t stay away. I’d probably tell you that you are insane if it was you telling me that story (not really though and I’m pretty understanding of the strangest things), but it isn’t you, is it now…it’s me. I’d still say the same and I guess it makes me a little crazy. I’ve always gladly owned it and who wants to be like everyone else haha. The extent of which obviously varies at times. Joking aside, nothing has changed, the wounds never closed and I continued to chase her love, wanting and hoping to be her daughter some day. A love that was unreachable, a love I once painted in an outcry of pain.

I know there have been times when I was so angry and hurt that I wished I could just walk away. This was one of those times and another desperate need remained unanswered. Another run against that thick wall that didn’t even shake the foundation. It remained as always, solid, without a crumble and reserved. I knew that no matter how many times I might run up against it, it might never be in my power to just walk away and quit trying. Did I really want to? The bond has always been very strong, but mostly one sided. As time passes it becomes clearer and clearer that Mom won’t change. She is set in her ways, but recently did change for a moment, being so sick and thinking that she was going to die. That seems long past now, and she has returned to her usual self. No lesson was learned on her part, no near death realization, no acknowledgement, no gratitude. “You wanted to be here, right, nobody forced you to come” she says and therefore washes her hands of any feelings.

I thought of the beautiful flower bouquet that my girlfriend brought Mom the other day. Beautiful, big yellow roses, a truly beautiful display of ten blooming heads. She was over the moon for her flowers and has talked about them each day since. Apparently everyone else was overly excited about the flowers as well, and many compliments have found their way to Mom. I should be happy that she found something to take joy in as it is rare these days and all should be well, right? But it isn’t. I’m competing with ten roses, as silly as it might sound. You see there is this little girl that had to grow up way too fast, me, who has lost her Dad and Mom at the same time, one physically and the other emotionally. One little girl who has been bringing Mommy flowers on numerous occasions and who makes sure that Mommy has something beautiful and pretty to look at. A genuine act on my part that has mostly gone unnoticed, although she wants to keep them around for another day when they begin to wilt. Compliment enough, right? Did I really do it because I wanted her thank you? All of a sudden I found myself feeling jealous and hurt about the beautiful yellow flowers. Absurd but true. Again, I felt as if I was running up against that wall, never being able to do anything right. Just like nobody had forced me to come to Germany, nobody had forced me to buy the flowers. I imagined how nice it would have been, had she liked my flowers as much as her beautiful yellow bouquet. While in thought I felt embarrassed to think such thoughts, but it also brought the realization that things can’t go in like this. That I need to watch after myself and protect my heart if Mom couldn’t do it herself. Crazy enough to think that a colorful array of tulips couldn’t compare with the beautiful roses, but it was how I felt. I knew that it wasn’t the flowers, but the recognition, the gratitude, her approval and the acknowledgement that I was seeking. Still now, in my fifties, I was hoping to do something right in her eyes, but the praise, the pride or whatever else it was that I was hoping for never came. Why….because I DID IT and in her mind I left her behind and I’m flawed. Aren’t we all? It’s not even the point poor Mom and sadly but true, sometimes you make me feel like I want to turn away. Some have said that your behavior doesn’t deserve my love, but I keep coming back. Once again, that is not for me to judge, and I will continue to give you my love freely, unconditionally and because I want to. Whatever you might think, the bond between a Mother and a Daughter is forever, no matter how many times you push me away. But something has to and is about to change…

“Unreachable Love” a painting.

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Author:

Who am I, and why I write. I’m a dreamer and I’m not the only one. I am the one holding on to the silver lining when the skies are gray. I’m a believer that nothing is coincidence, but has purpose. I’ve made mistakes, and I see them as a part of who I am today. I have lost myself in order to find myself, and I still do from time to time. In a good way. I’m a big child who laughs until my belly hurts when life wants to be serious. Career wise: I’ve been there, done that, and I took “The jump” off of the hamster wheel to change my future. I didn’t land all that softly, but I still did it. Coming full circle, I had it all, and yet I was lonely and had nothing. Today I choose to be a collector of memories and I chase moments, instead of martial stuff. Less is more, and I prefer quality over quantity. You’d be amazed at how freeing it can be. Talking about free, I see myself as a free spirit that believes in an unconventional lifestyle. I find myself going against the grain most of the times, not to rebel, but because it feels right to stay true to my unique and authentic self. It takes courage, and you often stand alone, but if you find a way, you soon realize that it is the only way to not lose who you are.
My past wasn’t easy and I come from a life that didn’t always give me the opportunity to be heard. Few related and even fewer cared to take the time. But now I believe that the past is history, the future hasn’t happened and the “NOW” is truly all we ever have. In the end I realize that we all have a story to tell, and we all seek to be understood. We all yearn to be heard, to be accepted, and to find our spot in life. We try hard to fit in, some to the point of acting out of character, playing by the rules of what we think society expects of us. Until we wake one day, feeling empty and lost, with our life passing right in front of us. It’s never too late to change your stars, and it was my toughest moments, who turned out to be my greatest teachers.
They say that the stars can’t shine without darkness, and it was darkness who has shown me the light.
It took a series of (un)fortunate events, to learn to glow through the pain, to learn how to dance in the rain. I believe in Magic and wonder, and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. As an empath this old soul often feels a little too much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Today, I am here to tell my story because I believe that it can help others. It is my hope to bring inspiration and strengths to you, while showing you that it can be done. I know you are out there, and I know you are suffering in silence. I am here to tell you that you are not alone, and your voice is being heard loud and clear. Hang on and be strong, transformation is yours. 
In light and love....Rhapsody Bohème 💙🦋

11 thoughts on “In dreams (Part two – The realization)

  1. There go the tears again, what can I say? I know what you mean, I spent years contemplating making the break from my parents, never seeing them again to protect myself. I could never do it, because I didn’t love myself at the time so thought I deserved what I got, also because I knew I would receive more hate from the wider family and be seen as the one at fault. All the wrong reasons. It seemed easier to stay in the no-win, hurtful situation without hope than to walk away. But I never did fully give up hope that things could change, and in the end I was right, they did, although I would never have believed it at the time, nor that I made it happen.
    Call me deluded, I may well be, but I still believe your mum can change too. Imagine the liberation that will come to her soul if she does. This may be a daft idea, but have you thought of just telling her how you feel? I know you would have done that by now if you thought it was possible, and presumably you haven’t, her actions are effectively stopping you from telling her the truth. She doesn’t want to hear it but you don’t choose to hear her wounding words either. Of course, if you did that, it would get worse before it got better…. You sound like you’ve got a plan, have you got a plan?
    Hugely powerful painting… three leaning crosses (not broken or down, though), an undefined landscape – what does it really look like? Waving as the heart/love leaves? The heart and the pain are both red… This is the first of two paintings, surely? I’m sitting here with millions of different ideas of what you can do in my head, but I can’t tell you one of them without your permission now, it’s your journey, you have your eyes wide open now, my gut tells me it can only come from within you. But I’m a resource you can call on, a tool for you to choose. I’m always here for you, always.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much for always taking the time to share your insight and for being here for me. I do believe Mom can change and the hope never fully died. I continue to shake that wall and one day it will crumble. I just know.
      We already talked since this comment and I am excited for today. A day of healing, a day of great connections. Xo

      Liked by 1 person

  2. A very moving and honest post Rhapsody. In a way, I think you are going through Catharsis. Reliving the ‘old hurts,’ is a way to examine that which is so hard to look at! Love is a double-edged sword with joy and sorrow vying for attention. You will come through this, and yes, your Mom will reevaluate her relationship with you because she will see your vulnerability like you see hers. Don’t expect miracles, but a squeeze of her hand will likely elicit a squeeze back. It is the silent communication of touch that often brings the closeness missing for so long, even when the tongue remains sharp for the rest of the world to witness.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much for your heartfelt comment. I think you might be right and I am in the process of purges old hurt and reliving it in order to deal with it and shape a new future. Thank you so much for your insight. Much appreciated dear.

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    1. I don’t have an exact plan, but will attack one day at a time. I’m here to help, but can’t ignore my own needs and need to do better. I am no longer the ten year old my Mom often sees, although she and that aspect has become such an important part of the journey. Much depends on Mom and how she adjusts. I can’t predict it completely but she was doing better today.

      Liked by 1 person

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