My relationship with my mother has never been at its best. Most people always thought that it all came from me turning into a teenager. What they never knew was that this situation had already been going on almost my whole life. Understanding my mom actions and harsh words were always difficult. The most difficult thing for me to understand was why our family never celebrated Christmas, I was just five years old at the time.
I hated my mom for never letting my sisters and I put up a tree. Her response to why not were always the same, “it’s too expensive” “a lot of houses burn because of trees” “it takes to much time.” That’s not what hurted me the most, but not getting any presents was what did. When going back to school I always lied about the things I supposedly got.
Seeing every kid my age shows off and saying what at the time we called Santa Claus had got them from there wishing list made me feel really left out from their conversations. Going back to school for winter break was seriously the worst thing ever! It was until I was seven years old that I understood her actions. I overheard her say “In 1993 my mom died, on December 24 when we were all about to celebrated. At the moment I grabbed every Christmas light and tree including every decor and burned it. Never again could I celebrate again”. That was all I had to hear, her worse sounded with so much anger towards life with so much sadness. I couldn’t help but feel guilty about always judging her wrong.
So many times I screamed at her called her a bad mother when really she had her own personal reasons. Why not just tell me though I thought to myself. Could she had possibly thought that I was too young to understand? As the years went nothing changed. By this time am already a eighth grader at William James Middle School. Everything looks so much different, everyone acts different.
Throughout the year I would get bullied by another student because my cheeks wo…