Make our Mother Proud – A Letter to my Childhood Self

Please note: this piece contains descriptions of loss some readers may find upsetting.

To my nine-year-old self,

I remember. After all these years. The phone call. Our grief unknown to Dad as he answered. The words were not spoken, but we knew. Our mother was dead. Our Dad's anguish, barely audible as he tried not to wake us. Cancer had won. The gaping black hole of despair hauling us into nothingness. Our breathing broken. Tears glinting in the hallway light as we perched from the shadows. Mum is dead. We are alone.

I share that memory to remind you that I understand. I have never forgotten. I know how you are feeling. I remember being resolute that no one would understand. But me, your future, I understand wholly. The loss is vacuuming your life. Grief consuming your family. Adults acting like children. Children, us, forced to grow up too soon. You feel numb. Unable to process what has shattered your reality. I write to you today to let you know there is an end to this feeling. You will make it. I did. But you must be strong. Be your own superhero and brace yourself for the next fight. You will win it. We have won it.

I won’t lie to you. The next few years will break you to a point you think you will not recover. Grief is unpredictable. But believe me when I say, how people are acting right now is not a reflection of who they are. They are hurt. Everyone grieves in their own way. Some have demons of their own which result in anger. You have not caused this. You are not responsible for the actions of others. I know you blame yourself. But please believe me when I tell you, It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.

Vile adults will enter your world. Do not believe a word they tell you. Some will say you're stupid. That you will not amount to anything.

Lies.

We worked endlessly to gain 3 degrees. You now work a job you love and make a difference every day. They did not know the full story. You struggle to learn due to your undiagnosed dyslexia, dysgraphia, and visual stress – not identified until university. Yet you still obtained a Bachelors, Masters, and PGDE by the age of 22. You are not stupid. You never have been. Their cruel words became ammunition. You will hold a burning desire to prove them wrong. And you will.

They will tell you that all your friends hate you.

Lies.

Your friends will become your family. I have no words to express how deeply your friends will love and care for you in the years to come. They will fill those holes of despair and bring you into the light. When you process this all and are at your lowest, they will be there. They will protect you. Hold you when you cannot stand. Pick you off the ground. You will be surrounded by endless love and support. Although you feel alone now, just know that they will always have your back. When you are ready to reach out, they will be there. They will never leave you. Those people don’t have the faintest idea of the relationships you will forge. Unbreakable to anything life throws your way. I cannot wait for you to meet the people I have met over my lifetime. We have the most beautiful souls in our corner who love us for who we are. They cherish our own perceived faults.

Home will not feel safe for many years. You will spend a number of years alone. But you will find your passions. You will write countless stories, all drafts read by your friends. Even the rubbish ones at the beginning. You find a love for reading. Joining a book group and forging beautiful friendships. You will continue your love of music, going on to study it at university. The days of being told not to play piano will be gone. You will perform in a ridiculous number of concerts on saxophone and piano, receiving standing ovations and the respect of other talented musicians. Talented. Smart. Caring. Kind. Dedicated. These are all words people will use to describe you. Those vile adults couldn’t have been more wrong.

You will buy a flat and make it your own home. A safe space. You will have somewhere to go and feel peace. You will be excited to spend time home alone. You will no longer feel empty. Writing, reading, cuddling your cats, skyping, and hosting your friends. Dad will remarry the best human you could imagine. Someone who respects your mother's memory. Who spent a fortune buying you a prom dress because, and I quote, ‘it’s what your mum would have done.’ She will treat you as her own daughter. You will finally have the relationship you have been missing all these years. Your family will heal. Your dad and brother laughing once more, loving their lives.

You will go into teaching, supporting countless kids who have gone through similar circumstances. Although you can't tell them your story, you will be there to support them, as so many did for you. You will keep them safe, happy—everything you needed. They will give you cards, homemade gifts, words of endearment that will bring you to tears. They will make you proud.

I write to you today to give you hope. Our life now is something I never dreamed of when we heard that call. We’re surrounded by people, hobbies, a home, and a career that brings me so much joy. Everyone that knew our mum tells me that we have made her proud. So, I beg you, live your life as I have. Every day fight to make your mother proud. When you feel life is pushing you to your limits, remember this:

People don’t cry because they are weak. They cry because they have been strong for too long.

You are strong. You will make it.

With the utmost love,

Your 26-year-old self.