My Anger Letter from Retreat

During the retreat, we had an anger exercise where you pick one person you are still mad at and write them a letter for 15 minutes, which you don't have to send to them but you could share with the rest of the group that weekend.  I've been so mad at her lately about other things that I didn't want to start it off with "Dear Mom" because that seemed too friendly.  Here's what I wrote:

Dear Mother,

I'm angry at you for not helping me when I was pregnant.  I'm angry that you think you know what's best for everyone including me, and you won't accept me as I am.  I'm angry that you have to be so smug and aloof all the time.  When I'm sad, you act impatient.  I hate that everyone thinks you're a perfect mom.  You do everything perfect and right but you don't love me.  I used to hate myself because I wasn't as good of mom as you, but at least I love my kids and I tell them!

You attributed a lot of signs* about my day at the abortion clinic to God for some sick reason and I hate you for that.  I know they were from the pit of hell.  God wouldn't have wanted my baby stolen from me.  [This is all I had time to write.]

*These were the signs:

1. She tried calling the pastor of her church for advice about my pregnancy.  He was on vacation out of state, so she told me that was a "sign" that an abortion was the right thing to do.
2. The weather had been horrible (blizzards) the whole three days before the abortion date.  But the day we went, the highway to Rockford was completely free of snow, so she told me that was a "sign" that an abortion was the right thing to do.
3. (The sickest one) The abortion doctor came into the recovery room afterwards and told me that my family doctor (the one who actually made the appointment for me at this clinic) was a friend of his and they went to medical school together, and my mother also thought that was a "sign" that an abortion was the right thing to do.

I think it did help to write this letter even though I'll never send it.  If I ever did send it, she would self-righteously protest that she was doing what was best for me, in her know-it-all way.