The circumstances of my arrival on Earth were quite tumultuous. I am the daughter of a mentally ill, drug addicted alcoholic. I do no say this in a flippant way. My mother’s life was her life to live. Any resentment I had for her, I let go of quite some time ago. She had her reasons and I learned a lot from her and in spite of her, I loved her dearly. I also have a sister. My poor sister was the target of much of my resentment for our childhood, but I have since forgiven her for actual wrongs and ones I just made up, but punished her for nonetheless. She is my rock and my hero. There is a reason they say to never meet your hero, so I recommend you don’t have a hero who is a direct relative or a least be a bit more compassionate than me when you realize their humanity. At the tender age of 17, I became Olivia’s mother. This has defined me more than anything else. She is the very best of everything my mother, my sister, and myself are and were. She is the most fanatic person I have ever met. I can no longer remember what it is like to not be a mother. Sooner than I’d like, I will have been a mother for more of my life than not. That is ok. I am Cindy’s daughter, Lindsey’s kid sister, and Olivia’s mother. Not bad if I do say so myself.
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