A Birthday Letter to My Birth Mother

Some connections are written in our DNA, but life doesn’t always give us the chance to grow into them. This is a letter I wrote for the woman I believe is my birth mother—on her birthday. It’s full of hope, honesty, and the ache of years apart. Whether she ever reads it or not, these are the words my heart has been carrying.

A Birthday Letter to My Birth Mother

After all that God has shown me,

I still sometimes doubt

that you’re my mother.

I see so much of me in you—

and you in me—

but I can’t get past the rejection.

In you,

I see the promises of God

to a little girl

coming into fruition.

In you,

I see the mother I thought

I had to die to find.

In you,

I see a living, walking, breathing dream

I almost left behind.

In you,

I see a sunrise—

enlightening, preparing you

for a hectic day.

In you,

I feel the joy

trapped in all the words

I’ll never say.

⸻

I just wanted to be a daughter—

experiencing a womb connection,

that everlasting bond

full of nurtured correction.

All I wanted was

to worship God with you,

to feel safe to surrender

and be vulnerable.

To be proud of your successes.

To witness a life

that’s truly honorable.

⸻

Since we talked,

I’ve rekindled abandoned passions—

pieces of me slipping through my fragments,

split up, forgotten,

minimized to fractions,

divided, ignored,

canceled, subtracted.

Since we talked,

I’ve tackled what stalls my healing—

advocating louder for my peace,

expressing my feelings.

⸻

Since I heard your voice,

I can’t bear the screeches of imposters—

pretending to be you,

resenting the role of my mother.

They didn’t have the capacity to care—

just the obligation to be there.

Never had the tools to fulfill,

feeding me hypnotic lies,

enjoying the thrill.

⸻

I appreciate those who raised me,

but I hate the reality

that I was kept from you—

You,

whom I see when I look in the mirror.

You,

whom I see when I achieve my goals.

You,

whom I see when the truth unfolds.

You,

whom I see when I need to be better—

the perfect blueprint

of a courageous mother.

⸻

I watch you protect the child

you’re raising.

Even though it may hurt,

it’s an effort worth praising.

God tells me stories of you.

He uses your testimony

to teach me.

Reminds me of you

when I’m going through.

⸻

After all that God has shown me,

I still sometimes doubt

that you’re my mother—

Praying I didn’t get it wrong,

hoping it’s not another.

I see so much of me in you,

and you in me,

but I can’t get past the rejection—

Scared you’ll never want me,

praying I didn’t get it wrong.

In you,

I see the promises of God

to a little girl

coming into fruition.

In you,

I see home.

⸻

Happy Birthday!

—from the girl

who hopes you’re her mother…