56. Beauty in new beginnings
Fifty-Six
BEAUTY IN NEW BEGINNINGS
Liv
“You look like shit. Are you okay?” Viv asks as she places my coffee on my desk.
“Not really.” My gaze doesn’t meet hers as I chew on my fingernails, eyes focused out the window at the view I used to love.
Someone holds down their horn, the noise grating against my ears.
The brakes of some vehicles grind and squeal.
I’d give anything for the silence of the lake right now. The noise is too loud.
“Want to talk about it?” I can hear the concern in her voice, but I’m too emotionally drained to face it.
“Eventually, but I’m not ready yet.”
Viv, standing in my periphery, stares at me silently. Then, walks around my desk and wraps her arms around my shoulders in a fierce embrace. She holds me there while my eyes sting with unshed tears, and then releases me, leaving me to my thoughts.
There’s a letter tucked into the fold on the back cover of the journal.
Frowning at its appearance and wondering how I missed it, I reasoned with myself that I’d have had no reason to flip all the way to the back of the book because my mother never finished filling out the pages.
Yet there it is. The corner of the folded paper tilts sideways, sticking out behind the neatly sprayed edges just enough to capture my attention.
I unfold it, noting the date in the corner and that it’s addressed specifically to me. The letter feels more formal than the journal entries, and the contrast between the two sends my pulse racing.
August 13, 2018
Olivia,
I owe you so many apologies that I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know if you will ever understand, but I feel like you deserve some explanation. The least I can do is give you that.
When I met your dad, I was young. He was the first man I loved, and, honey, I thought I was so in love.
So blinded by the possibility of having found my person.
I was naive. I wanted what Gram and Pop had so badly and felt like the second I had some semblance of it I needed to hold on tight.
Deep inside, I knew he wasn’t right for me, but I was so afraid to let go, afraid of trusting my heart and myself, that I held on.
I believed that if I stuck it out, the roots of our love would grow deeper.
They didn’t, not really. I just became less, and your father became… everything.
Your dad was very controlling. Never physically abusive, but emotionally.
If I tried to see my friends, we’d argue.
He’d claim I didn’t love him. How could I have, if I wanted to spend my free time with other people?
Fighting him on that was so exhausting that I gave up.
It was easier for him to be happy than to defend my wants.
I convinced myself that it was okay, that I’d be fine and that I chose him because I loved him.
I allowed him to manipulate me into believing I couldn’t stand on my own and needed him to take care of me.
I no longer had friends or a life that belonged to me without him.
He controlled our finances, our lifestyle, and I shrank into the background of his life, with no identity of my own. He consumed everything.
When I became pregnant with you, he seemed excited to have something that was ours. That bound us together on a deeper level.
But when you were born, I loved you more than he could handle.
He needed all of me, and I couldn’t give him that anymore.
I think the way you captured my attention felt like a threat to the marriage he so carefully cultivated.
So, he made sure my world still revolved around him as best as he could.
He wouldn’t allow me to attend new mom groups.
I think he was threatened by the idea that I’d make friends.
He questioned every errand I ran, every phone call I made. It was so… exhausting.
Then one day, he just left. Left me with nothing. I had no means of taking care of myself, or us. No self-worth left without him. It was devastating because everything that I knew, attached myself to for years, was gone, and I didn’t know how to handle that. I didn’t know how to start over.
I stopped being any kind of mom. Stopped taking care of myself and you. I’ve made so many mistakes, Liv, but having you and loving you were never one of them, and I wish I had been around to tell you that.
One of my greatest regrets is that I left you.
I tried so many times to come back. I tried so many times to clean myself up and be the mom you deserved.
It reached a point, though, when I had been gone so long that I didn’t think you’d forgive me.
I didn’t know if you’d understand, and I was too afraid to find out.
How do you tell your child that after the person who was supposed to love you left, you didn’t know how to stand on your own two feet anymore?
How do you explain being left with a life that stopped being yours years ago, and you didn’t know how to survive it now?
Now I know, all I ended up doing was leaving you behind the same way your father left me. And I am so sorry. If I could go back and make different choices, I would, but life doesn’t work like that. The choices I’ve made are the choices I need to live with.
You’ve become such an incredible woman, and I am so proud of you. Don’t be afraid to trust your heart, afraid to start over. I wish I had known back then that there is beauty in new beginnings.
I will always love you, my little sunshine.
xo, Mom
The date on the letter is one week before my mother died. The breath I had been holding releases, my shoulders dropping along with it. I stare at the last paragraph, rereading it again and again.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, Viv’s vibrant smile lighting up the screen.
Viv: Just checking in.
I slide the text open, staring at the words for a long time. I could climb into bed. I could close the shades, tuck Sunny into my belly, and lie there with my thoughts.
Me: Are you free? I could really use someone to talk to.
Viv: I’m on my way.