Having grown up in a hostile environment, I learned to be strong so whatever came my way after I left my mother, I was able to overcome. Although my childhood memories come with a lot of hurt and pain, I am still thankful to my mother because she was the reason I became a strong person.

Right now, I am very happy with my home life. I have a wonderful husband and it’s been 15 years and going strong. I have 3 great kids who are growing up to be good persons. I try to make our home life as harmonious as possible. I don’t want my kids to grow up in a home where there is a lot of fighting and shouting.  I teach them to communicate to me in a positive way. Most of all, our home is overflowing with love and faith in God. No matter what I went through in my childhood, they were all replaced with what I have now.

I was able to prove my mothe wrong that I will not be happy in life and that I will not succeed.

Back then, my mother did not approve of my early marriage but being stubborn as I was and wanting to get away from her, I insisted. Life was hard and I knew it wouldn’t be easy raising my own family but I found a different kind of joy in starting my own family. It felt as if finally, I had my very own family. I was overwhelmed with joy when I gave birth to my son. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs but my husband and I never let go of each other. We were always partners in everything.

My mother kept saying to me back then, what a huge mistake I made in marrying early but it was the best thing I did in my life. I’m not saying it is the best thing for everybody. In fact, I believe that you should wait for the right time and the right person to get married to but  each and everyone of us have a different situation in life. Looking back now, I have no regrets. I have a wonderful family who loves me.

The first year of college, I had to live with some relatives who treated me much the same as my mother did. The thing when you’re adopted is that, people don’t always have to tell you  but they always make sure that you feel that you’re really not part of them. I always tell myself that I should not let other people affect me. They should not stop me from doing what I’m supposed to do with my life and that being adopted is something not to be ashamed of.

And so, I lived a new life in college. I gained more friends and became more honest with myself. I knew I still had a lot to learn and I still am not finished with my battles but I am never going to give up.

I made enemies in my life because of her. Though I didn’t want to be like her, in my heart I always wanted to please her and a point came when I had to hurt other people just to please her. There was a longing to be accepted and loved even if I knew it was never going to happen. I had never heard her say “I love you” either to me or my siblings or not even to my father when he was alive. She showed her love to my siblings by pushing them to be the best in school. I pushed myself to be the best so she would love me but that never worked.

Looking back now, perhaps she did love me in her own way…but whatever way that was, I never understood when I was young.

I knew at that time that there was no one to defend me anymore. I was vulnerable to my mother’s anger and when she shouted at me and became violent, I would shout back in return and reason out. We were always arguing and fighting so I turned my attention to my studies and looked for affection from my friends at school till I was in my teens. I learned to take care of myself. I had to be tough. I got very good grades in school and became very active in extra-curricular activities. I won contests, quiz bees and competitions in other schools. I became very popular.  The attention I lacked at home was given to me  by other people who admired me  and I worked harder to be the best because that was the only way other people would love me. I realized later on, that it was superficial. It was the kind of love and admiration that faded over time. Little did I realize back then that my mother was just as confused as I was and also trying to be tough in her own way.

I remember a time when I loved her so much. I worried about her and prayed for her but somehow that love slowly faded because of the wall between us. There was so much hurt. My mother became violent at times and would hurt me because I reasoned out. Once she cut off a portion of my hair. Another time she pushed me off the stairs.  I also remember a time when she tore my clothes and tried to push me out of the door.What hurt me more was when she and my siblings shouted to my face that I was adopted like it was a crime and I resented that so much.I also resented the fact that she didn’t want to work for us but just wanted to depend on social services for help and my grandfather’s support. A child imprints traumatic memories on their minds.

 I’m not going to say that she hurt me even if I did nothing. I was very opinionated, perhaps as a defense and she couldn’t take it. I’m also not going to make my mom look like she was a monster because was not.  We just didn’t get along like two people going in different directions.

 My mom would tell other people how bad I was and I never cared because I knew in my heart that I wasn’t. And that was how we grew further apart…because we believed in different things and all these things shaped me into what I have become now. As I grew older, I realized more and more that she was a victim as I was of circumstances in our lives.

One day, as I was walking home from school, I noticed that there were a lot of people in our driveway. It looked like there was a commotion going on. When I went inside, I found my mom crying beside my dad who was sitting on our living room sofa. His eyes were closed and his feet were propped up. I slowly came near them and a relative placed a crucifix on his chest. His eyes were closed and a tear was on one of his eyes. I realized there was something really wrong and  I tried to wake him up and an uncle gently took me away outside and told me that my father had an aneurysm.

I felt so lonely beyond words and feelings. I felt that even if  I cried a bucket of tears, it wasn’t enough. It was as if a part of me had died. The only person I leaned on to had passed on. I knew it was  going to be a different life without him, and so it became. I am no longer a baby, his baby. That very day, I turned into an adult because I knew the one person who loved me was gone.