The first Mother’s Day after I went no contact with my parents punched me in the gut and then did it again. I went to the grocery store and almost burst into tears when I saw the floral displays and Happy Mother’s Day balloons, and all of the accessories stores carry.

Even at the time, I knew I did not miss my own mother. What I was grieving was finally letting go of the idea that she would become a decent person who would care for me somehow. Cutting off contact removed my vain hope she would one day become someone she was not and actually be a good mother.

***

When I was in my late teens I read in a psychology textbook that throwing water on sleeping children to wake them up was considered abuse. I almost finished thinking the following, “No, it’s not! My mom used to do that to me and my sister all the time and laugh about it.” when it dawned on me… Maybe it had been.

***

The doctor said, “If I had seen you before you got on that plane, I would have told you not to.” She said it in front of my father, who, in conjunction with the rest of my family, had insisted and I get on said plane. At the time I was in a foreign country, with no money, no transportation, and no idea how to navigate the city alone to get myself to a doctor. So onto that plane I went. Where my eardrum burst so completely the doctor I saw when we landed commented it wasn’t even a tear in the tympanic membrane: she couldn’t see the membrane at all.

No one in my family apologized to not listening to me when I said I needed to go to a doctor. When my ex-partner called out my sister for her insistence that I was greatly exaggerating my illness, she continued claiming she had flown with ear infections before and had been completely fine. So whatever happened wasn’t her fault. No one ever brought it up again.

***

I am pretty sure the abnormal nasal anatomy I was born with came from my mother. She has many of the issues I had, migraines, allergies, spicy food intolerance, alcohol intolerance, sleep issues, etc., and the condition has a genetic component. I wondered if realizing my mother was in constant pain, dealing with all kinds of health issues, would make me feel differently about her.

But it circled right back to the same argument I had always chewed over about her. It’s sad that she suffered like that. But having chronic pain is not a guarantee of an abusive future. I lived in chronic pain and I managed to be way more pleasant. Also, she had access to doctors, medicine, therapies, etc.

Obviously, the breathing issues are not easily diagnosed. But she decided years ago, before I could remember, that doctors were bullshit and she needed to stop wasting her time with those quacks. She was not lacking in the funds or ability to seek medical care. She just decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle.

After my diagnosis, part of me wanted to reach out to her and tell her exactly what to say to a doctor and how to get treatment. But when I thought about it, I knew the response would inevitably be her nervous little giggle, and then she would tell me that I had no idea what I was talking about. Because that’s what she consistently said to anything I told her.

I won’t be making that call.