So much in common; same mother and father;
both small in stature and full of passion.
And yet, how different we are in many ways,
with the life choices and opportunities that
came our way. The least favoured, cast out
to graze in another woman’s field-granny.
I always wondered why mum didn’t like me,
why she chastised me at every opportunity;
wishing I was a boy, and maybe then she
would look my way and smile lovingly.
Sadness engulfed the girl I was; worry
and people pleasing kept me busy.
Looking back, I see that what I lacked at
home was given by others-unconditional love.
Meanwhile, the middle child, a boy sat alone
while this mother hugged her baby in a cocoon.
No primary carer to nurse his wounds when hurt;
instead he sat alone thinking I had it all.
So how did this pan out? There’s no doubt in my mind
that the mischief he made was his way to gain the
attention of everyone. This broken child is now a man
and the child is buried deep within, still crying for love
and affirmation; look at me and pay attention! How can
he heal this little boy and fill his life with endless joy?
It’s a shame empathy can’t be bought in a bottle,
to drink like beer when you’re watching the telly.
If it was, I would buy him a pack of six to help him see
the effect his boorishness has.
Today I regressed to a teenage girl, as he called me
a name that really hurt. Does he see the damage that’s done,
when he hits out at loved ones thinking it’s fun?
So what have I learned about myself today? That child
inside me is a moment away-I need to love her with all
that I am, not be held to ransom by the abuse of man.