I love my mom but leaving her house was more than a physical move. It is a spiritual one as well.
When I was little, I left my mom’s home to go live with my grandma. My mom’s version of the story was that I only went because I was closer to my friends. In reality, I left because even at that young age I knew I didn’t want to really be around her a lot.
Ever since I can remember she has never been the emotional type. Hugs and kisses were far fetched for her let alone cuddles. The affection I received was from my grandma. Don’t get me wrong, my mom provided financially but lacked emotionally and played a huge part in the decline of my mental health.
We lived in Jamaica until I was twelve years old. My grandma was my biggest support in everything. She did my projects with me, she sewed my cheer uniforms, she showed up at dance competitions. She was my best girl. She even listened to the same kid drama over and over, choosing sides with me every time I fell out with my best friends. My grandma was and is my mommy. She provided that bond for me.
We left the island when I was about thirteen years old. Leaving Jamaica to live in the states at the time was every kid’s dream and I was about to live it. I had a script written in my head on how my life would play out. I think this is an appropriate time to insert a Christian line, “You make plans and God laughs.” Because boy, jokes on me.
My mom got married and that’s the reason for our move. We picked up our lives and became citizens and New York residents. That shift was a huge culture shock for me. Trying to navigate through High School with this thick accent, out dated clothes and no clue on what is happening around me was the calm before the storm. Everyday felt harder and harder. Trying to figure out the NYC way of living and finding myself all while stepping into puberty was a challenge. One I needed my mom for.
I remember around sophomore year I began to feel trapped. I went from having my grandma’s unconditional love everyday to living in a cold and dry home. Barely any affection ever. I fell into deep depression. My first instinct was to talk to my mom about what I was feeling and I was shut down. I kept trying and she would shut me down every chance. One day I finally broke down and said, “I’m depressed.” Her response was what started the beef between us. “If you’re depressed, jump off a building.”
As the years went on all I kept saying to myself was, “When I leave, I’m never coming back.” We bumped heads daily. Sometimes I wondered if she really loved me. She was just mean. The things she said were harsh and cold. As if she wanted to see my spirit crushed. She reminded me that only her feelings matter with the way she handled conflicts. I started to feel like she was my sister rather than my mom. I just wanted my mom though. I missed my grandma daily.
I Finally Moved Out.
In 2024, my older daughter and I moved out of my mom's house. Thank You God! I remember one day, I was on the phone with my husband (we were dating at the time) and my mom and I got into a really huge argument. I just remember my husband saying to me, “I have to get out of there.” And that he did.
After moving out, I realized how much space was needed. It felt good to feel at peace where I rested at night. I chose when I wanted to talk to my mom but then she started calling daily. The conversations were cool from time to time but she still had so many toxic traits that were still draining me, even with the distance we had.
It’s now 2025, and I had to create more distance between us. Some days, I do not answer my phone. I send a text to let her know all is well but I do not have the capacity to talk to her. Some days we do talk but very little. I’m now 28 years old and my mental health is very important to me. I’m a wife and a mom to two girls. I have a cycle to break. My husband and my daughters are depending on me to show up to be their emotional, mental, physical, spiritual support. The things I never had, I have to now provide and I can no longer allow the lack thereof to affect what goes on in my household.
Low contact is needed for my healing. I know I can’t get over these wounds if I keep going where they’re only getting cut deeper. I love my mom but leaving her house was more than a physical move. It is a spiritual one as well. This journey of healing and forgiving is going to be my breakthrough and I cannot allow myself to fall back into that place of hate and anger anymore. I have a lot of unlearning and learning to do now. As I heal, I’m creating a better life with the help of God and my husband for our girls. That’s the goal. To never put my family in position to hurt how I hurt.
Here’s to getting over mommy issues and becoming the mommy I wish I had.
With love, Dani
