Escape, escape, escape

A poem about my journey escaping an abusive mother

Photo by De an Sun on Unsplash

When I stepped out
from under that looming shadow
of financial, emotional, physical
abuse,
that was my first escape.

I thought I would only
need one escape —
I was wrong.

When your abuser is your mother,
people will excuse her aggression
as coming from a good, loving place
and shift the burden on you
to fix her, to accommodate her,
to return her aggressive love.

My second escape
was stepping out of these connections
and realizing that intention does not
justify the damage that was done.

That you cannot fix someone
unmotivated to see the problem,
unwilling to make the change.

My third escape
was to escape the escaping.
The mindset of
continually trying to run away
from something dangerous.