The Loss

Hair. My hair and her hair were a point of connection my mom and I had for years. I was her only daughter,

and she would run her fingers through my hair, would braid it, would flat iron it, and we would always play with each

other's hair. I would braid hers, try to do different things with it,  and brush it. Now I twirl my hair on my fingers, missing

the touch of her hands in the only activity I really remember us doing one-on-one together. When I was little, I did not always

want to do her hair, but now I do miss that time. I miss doing her hair. I was always told, “Your mom loves you, she just doesn’t

know how to show it”, and I believe that is true. 

    When I decided to cut contact with my biological mom, it became a decision I have to make every day. Some days that

decision is harder than others. We live in a world that responds in multiple ways to a child who has had to make this choice.

Two of the ways that I have heard and said to myself a lot include “but she’s your mom” or “just get over it”. I have

also seen my friends respond with compassion and out of the love of Christ; there are people, my amazing friends,

who sit with me through the holidays, the birthdays, or even just the hard days. 

What I have been told

“But she is your mom.”

    My mom has chosen abusive men, and she surrounds herself with dangerous people. Her old boyfriend, who

went to prison for hurting me, has a family that has threatened me. My mom still had his family calling her, and there were

threats made that my brothers would tell me about during my visits. My mom seems stuck in these relationships, and I

pray she will get out; however, I legally can’t be associated with these people, and it is not safe. That is the logical truth.

The logical truth that she is not safe to be around is in tension with my emotional reality that she is my mom and I miss her. I

spent 9 months in her womb, I spent 11 years living with her, and then 6 years of visits, having cut contact at 17. The

reality is that I have to fight my urge to call her or go see her because the people she lives around are abusive, and

they are a threat to my safety. The reality is that I know I am missing time with her. I know she is my mom, but I also know

she is not safe to be around physically or mentally.

“Just get over it.”

    When I was younger, I thought this was the goal. I thought that if I could just get over my mom and get to the point of not

thinking of her, I would win and overcome the abandonment and neglect my mother put me through. My dad and my stepmom

have given me the advice to just get over it. I think, though, of this wound like the trench in Finding Nemo. Going through

the trench looks scary from the outside, but when they go over the trench, they go right into stinging jellyfish. What would sting

if I try to just “get over” my mother? The rejection wound would continue to rear its ugly head in my current relationships, my

future children having a mom who isn’t present because she emotionally numbed out a long time ago, and pent-up grief that

never had a chance to make itself known. The grief is real, and just because I show it doesn’t mean I don’t have faith in God. 

What would Jesus say?  

“Honor your mother and father.”

    When I went to Cornerstone, there was a man who came in using that verse in saying something along the lines of

children with abusive parents should reconcile with them to honor their parents. He talked about his own experience of

reconciling with his abusive father. I think as much as that may seem honoring, allowing a parent to hurt you again is

not honoring, and this man’s advice can’t be applied to every situation where a child has cut contact with their parent. I do

honor my mother, just not in the way of reconciling with her. I honor her with love and compassion rather than bitterness.

My grief is a sign that I do love and care for her. I do have compassion for her situation. I pray that one day she will know

the love of Jesus and that she doesn’t need to stay stuck in these cycles of abuse. 

“I am with you.”

    Jesus is not here to just give “wise” advice. God does have the book of Proverbs filled with great wisdom. I think we

sometimes want a checklist to be done with certain things, and grief is one of the things to be done with. People think it is wise

to say “just get over it”, and they think that by saying that, I will do better. Grief is not just something someone can

simply check off a checklist. I think of the times I want my mom to be with me in the future: when I get my master's degree,

when I get married, when I have a baby, and so on. It doesn’t have to be a big milestone like those; sometimes I want her to

be with me when I have a bad day, or sometimes it could just be a normal day, and I want her here. I miss her during the

holidays and birthdays, too. Someone like my mom, my dad, or Jesus being with me is powerful. Jesus is not here to give just

half-hearted advice; he is fully present. He gave his whole self on the cross, and the pain of my mom’s neglect was one of the

many wounds that he held during that time. Sometimes I don’t feel validated in my grief, and sometimes people like to just cover

my pain with Bible verses like Romans 8:28. The first time I had this verse recommended to me felt invalidating. They were

trying, but it did not feel like someone was present in my pain, but rather trying to use a feel-good verse as a band-aid to cover

up a bigger issue. Just quoting a good scripture is not being with someone the way Jesus wants us to enter into someone’s pain.

When he enters into my pain, he is with me in my deeply painful grief, not just giving advice or feel-good passages, but

cherishing me in the way my mother never did. 

“I love you."

    I have seen a conditional love that has me operating in a mentality that I am not good enough, not wanted, and I must

seek validation from others. Although I have a stepmom, I have felt the need to search for a mother figure. My stepmom

was very controlling of me as a kid, and that just caused tension in our relationship. Things that were a huge deal for her did

not seem like a huge deal to me. Examples include growing out my hair, me wearing a sweater because I was cold when

she was hot, and other things. I did not think I was super bad as a teenager, but I do think I have never lived up to my

stepmom's expectations. She wanted me to move out after college, which I don’t have the financial means to do right now.

I have given up on trying to reach her expectations of me, but our lack of a relationship does bother me. I think I really

don’t have a mother figure, and I find myself soothing myself the way a mother would. I still struggle with trying to meet

her expectations sometimes, but my focus area for 2026 is “Look up and Be Held.” Look up in the midst of what I am currently

living in, making my home in his love and joy. Be held and allow myself to just be loved. I have a betta fish, and I delight

in that little guy. His name is Anchor, and he is just the cutest. He is good at being a betta fish, but I have learned I am

not as good at just being a human. He reminds me that just as I love him in his smallness, Jesus does not have conditional

love, but rather unconditional love for me in the waysthat I fear and worship him. My life

small when considering who Jesus is, but He chooses me, even when mymother didn’t. Hecontinues to choose me even when I don’t meet expectations. He loves me and wants me, and my

life is just a small arrow pointing to eternity with him.

My mourning is not done. I don’t think there needs to be a stopping point for grief. As long as I love my mom,

I will continue to mourn. Sometimes it does feel like I have to mourn alone. I really do believe my family can’t handle the

depths of the mourning over my mom. My stepmom pushes it aside, wanting to talk about other things. She continues to

tell me to just get over it. My dad does care, but he gets distracted and numbs out a lot of his pain. I am glad I have my friends,

my old college roommate, and my counselor. The Lord does have people surrounding me who care and support me through

this. Mourning is not the end, but it is not something that one needs to get over in a timeline. One time for a class, I did a

pastel portrait of what grief looks like called the emotions of grief. I think there is a light in the grief, as shown in the

pastel drawing, and that means we don’t have to wait for it to go away to dance or find enjoyment in life. We can feel every

feeling grief brings up, and we can dance with the joy of the Lord, not because the loss is solved. The loss can still be here.

We can experience every emotion that grief brings up, but I think that the time to grieve and the time to dance can both

be honored.