by Nuri Rhines

Created on: May 13, 2010

My “Mother”

“I am so sorry baby. My phone is going out. Can I call you back later tonight?” I never got the chance to answer because her phone clicked off. I was fourteen and in my freshmen year of high school, therefore naïve and gullible. I waited hours for my mother to call me back, but she never did. I tried to call her a couple of days later, but she did not pick up any of my calls. Days, weeks, than even months flew by and I still had not talked to her since that night. On August sixth, I turned fifteen and I thought she was going to call, but she never did and I fell apart. From there, a downward spiral of harsh and life changing events occurred. Consequently, the absence of my real mother, the struggle of getting to know myself and the letting go of my mother are the three aspects that have helped shape who I am as a person today.

My mother has not been a big part of my life, and some people have asked me how someone who has never been in my life could affect me so much. Well, that is just it. She has never been in my life and her absence has brought so much sadness and unanswered questions. For instance, why does she never call? Does she not care for me? Questions like these have been running through my mind for as long as I can remember and have affected me deeply. I always had negative thoughts about myself because I felt so unloved.  Although I do have a step-mother  who took me in when I was six, thoughts about real mother still surface. There was actually a time when I was so poignant that I believed that I was nothing, because if my own mother could not love me than no one could, not even myself. This type of thinking made me depressed and this sadness not only affected me, but also the people around me. I did not have many friends because I was always bitter and nasty to the people around me. It got to the point where my own family did not want to be around me. All of this happened because of the absence of my mother. I felt like a worthless, futile person because my real mother did not care enough to pick up a phone or even email me. However, this obstacle with my mother was not the only challenge in my life.

Getting to know one’s self is a hard and long process that everyone goes through. As I was growing up, I felt sad and livid at whom I was because of my mother. I did not know who I was, like most pre-teens, and the only type of thoughts that were in my head where negative ones. Therefore, making

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