Do you regret it mum?

Do you regret it?

Do you look at me and wish you could go back in time?

How far back would you go?

Would you start with the eldest, my big brother? The boy you never see because you put him through far too much. Never loved him enough to protect him, just enough to shoulder him with trauma. I know you’re angry that he doesn’t treat you like his mother, but when have you ever acted like one?

Would you start with my older sister? The one who ran without knowing she was running. The one who’s most like you, in all the ways you love but can’t get along with. The one that you turned into a mother and still told her that she wasn’t enough. Still never apologised, never thanked. Do you miss her?

Would you start with my younger sister? The one who ran towards money rather than love, a lesson taught by your lack of love. She learnt if she can’t be loved, atleast she can have everything she wants. She left, and you were furious. You deserved it and I think that’s what made you so angry over it.

Would you start with my younger brother? The one who ran towards strict rules and structure because it was always better than you. No care, left to his own devices. Finding comfort in siblings but never a mother. Never taught correctly, never raised properly becuase you gave up after child number one left.

Would you start with me? The middle child, oh the tales and theories about middle children. Conceived straight after a successful abortion. Raised to lie, hide, to be loud about everything but what matters. Expectations high becuase oh I showed potential. Mh older siblings struggled where I exceeded.

I think you loved that. That kid who did whatever pleased you. Get great grades, pretend to care, pretend everything was okay. I wanted to be a teacher, then a lawyer all because it’s what you had wanted.

Now, when you look at me, do you think about all the years you wasted? Strict rules, expectations that got higher when they were met, never being enough. Then depression disguised as rebellion.

Do you look at me and regret anything? Do you regret having kids, having me? Do you regret all of the mistakes you made, all the pain and traumas you caused and created?

Do you look at me and feel disappointment? I’m not college or university educated, I dropped out. I’m not in a fancy job, I work at a takeaway. I lie, I swear. I’m awkward and isolated. I’m not what you raised me to be.

Do you love me? Or do you love the fact that your not alone, that I’m the only kid whose stayed so far?