They said to stay away...
This is a copy of a letter I tried to send to Mica in 2018. The phone they shared on my account was closed in March 2020, at the same time that they "lost" their therapy dog "Buffy", and close to the same time that Nica Mellifera (aka Toby Fee) started playing a prominent role in their (Mica and Phoenix) lives, I believe that all these things are connected to continue to keep them hidden, and to prevent their independent, unmonitored, access to the outside world. All this secretive behavior is more about hiding them, than "blocking" me when I'm told to stay away.
To Mica
I’m sorry for this letter. I know you are in school. I’m sorry this is happening now. (Did you know that W___ is flying to Atlanta this weekend for J___’s mom’s memorial service?) Life is short. Please read this letter. I’m driving the mini to back to Portland. I am speaking up for what is right, even if you feel I hurt you Mica, I love you more than words can ever say and I accept you in whatever way you wish, except no contact. I think about you often everyday. I want to see you graduate from Reed. I want you home for Christmas. I want you to visit and talk to me. You are right to ask for space from me if you feel you need it. I know my pain and my depression have hurt you. I know I made mistakes I can’t change. If I thought staying away would help you, I would stay away. But I feel there has been too much separation. Let’s talk and set up some guidelines that I can follow. This way you will know what to expect and you can stop looking over your shoulder. I’m sorry for all the apparently insane texts and emails I send. From my perspective I have been dealing with insanity, unreality for a year now, and no way to respond if I respect a demand for no contact. Neither you nor Espe talk to me. I’m not sure anymore that your dad and I are the reason, or the distraction. Her accusations, if they are hers, have become more angry and more sensationally untrue. Last year, Espe’s letter asking for no contact threw your dad and me into a place where I had to drop my certificate program, and your dad was not able to work. I sat in bed for days. Neither of us could think clearly. This did not help you or W___ or Espe. Boundaries are about respect for others—including my respect for you and your respect for me. You know this. You are not obligated to stay with people who hurt you. But families are made. They are about loving and accepting each other’s differenhces and each other’s pain, and joy. They are about forgiving. No matter how many families you choose out there, if you can’t do these things, then your family will not last. People may be perfect, but families are not. I too woke screaming when I was in college. I did not associate this with my parents’ treatment of me. I did not have therapists to help with this. I read books and learned to appreciate what was good in my parents and their love for me. This took years. I stayed in contact with them because I was economically dependent on them, and because I knew they cared for me. Maybe not in the way I liked, but I also knew I did not need to live with them in Saluda. It hurts a lot to read that you were so depressed you could not attend class. I too failed out of school my sophomore year. That’s why I attended school for 5 years. Your grandmother said it was because I lacked self-confidence, that this was something both she and your grandfather gave me. That may be true, but they also gave me security and love. I just think I was depressed. It’s okay that you want to say I unfairly accuse Jameson of influence. It’s just that with all our family faults, I can only attribute the lack of communication, etc to him. It’s not the way of our family. If he did not exist in our family, we would be talking, and there would not be all these letters. Maybe you should try not communicating with him for a while. You’ll probably feel less anxious and you’ll have more money. I’m sorry that I accepted abuse in my marriage and continued to expose my children to anger. I was too depressed to act, and these kind of things happen slowly and creep up. I feel I’ve let you down because I was not a mother or a woman you could respect. I made choices that I believed were for you. Maybe these choices did give you a chance to choose a school to attend, and leave home with some economic independence. I’m sorry I did not realize the pain I was causing you. I should have made different choices. I’m sorry I hurt you. You said you thought maybe 5 or 6 years ago that you would need to leave your parents to be healthy. What happened then? In 2012-13, Espe became sick and I was away a lot with her. This was the first time I was away from you for any real time. Around 2012 your dad began treating me as if I did not exist in a very disrespectful way. You were depressed and I was studying world history again. Perhaps this is where feelings of disassociation began for all of us, in different ways. The abuse escalated to become physical in 2015, and I apparently accepted all this. How confusing that must have been for you! My dad asked for my forgiveness, my mom asked for my forgiveness, and I’m asking for yours. Forgiving me will create the distance you want, and it will set you free from me, and this distance will also give you the chance to have a loving and caring relationship with your parents. When you are ready to give more, I will be waiting with open arms. Focus of what’s inside you that’s good and positive, like your love. Don’t let someone else’s bitterness and anger take anything from you that is rightfully yours—like the support of your parents, emotionally and financially. Let’s build bridges, not destroy them. Life is short, so much time is wasted in being bitter about the past. You and I only have our future so let’s make it a loving one. I’m sorry you feel that I question your memories to challenge them. My questions are not about changing your memories, but it’s about sharing another perspective, and understanding yours. These are my memories too. I remember a lot of happiness with you, not too long ago. I remember your laughter. Depression can sometimes make memories two-dimensional, all black and white. You reference Jameson. HIs behavior and his words have been bullying. He told Espe that we were trying to control her money just after she turned 21 before she graduated or was self-supporting because I asked her about a 3k withdrawal—money that I had given her for rent until she could find a job. Jameson, like you, threatened that he would know whenever I complained about him to you. He did enter our lives at the same time in 2012 and I believe he has been a negative influence, not because of his trans self or any other choices, but only because he was unable to see or understand our family’s structure. I believe he wrote his family history onto ours, and used our failings and insecurities, particularly in 2015-16, to make things appear differently or worse than they were. Maybe this made him feel better about himself. And I believe he has said things to you and to Espe and to W___ that have fostered a sense of abandonment in you. I’m not sure he knowingly does this, but that he translates his family’s angst onto ours. My distrust of Jameson today stems from a mother’s intuition that he does not love Espe unselfishly. According to Izzy, Jameson had a temper tantrum after she said things he did not like and he left suddenly with his mom and Espe last July, and he refuses to speak to her. This hurt her a lot. The lack of communication and judging and shutting people out is how Jameson and maybe his family deal with conflict. It’s not how healthy families do things. We talk. Our family, as long as it’s talking, is healthy. I’ve also been told that I am the scapegoat and Jameson and his mom blame every bad thing on me. This is what you and Espe have been hearing I guess. I just wish someone would complain of my actions to my face. How did we get to this place of writing letters and demanding no contact? Tell me in person. I’m asking this of Espe too. This is how monsters are made. I have been writing letters and texts because I don’t know what else to do. You too make me nervous. I’m never really sure I’m saying the right thing or doing the right thing. I feel judged by you. Talk to me. You say you feel threatened. By what? I know you are trying to change the way you feel. I also know you are strong and wonderful and loving. Talking to me and to your dad may make you angry, but that can make you feel more powerful too. Not talking, and hiding, not facing your fears and your memories, will only make you more anxious. Tell me I’m a terrible person if you like. I’ll still love you, and want you in my life. I will not abandon you. I’m sorry for all the mistakes I made by not protecting you or by protecting you, but today, I still believe we were mostly happy and we, as a family, loved each other. I’m glad you have Michelle and other friends to support you. I’m very happy you talk to Espe and W___. But you should have told me. You should have trusted me. In the end, all the choices we have made have gotten us here. with all the hurt, but also with so much potential for love and laughter. I taught communication as a way to resolve conflict from the time you were very small and sat at a table with your brother and sister to” talk about it”. I’ve encouraged you to communicate with your teachers and peers and etc. and it appears you are now very good at this. What I did not do was encourage communication with me. I thought you would find your way if I gave you the right tools. And you have, but you don’t see talking to me as a way to resolve any conflict you feel with me. I am sorry I did not try to talk to you more often and share my feelings with you. I am sorry I pushed you away. I gave you a car so that you would have freedom and independence, from me, and any perceived attempts at control. I put funds in your name so that you would have money at 21, to make your own choices. These are not controlling behaviors. As you said, you have had the option of not talking to me. This is your choice, not mine. I want to leave you alone if this is what you need. I don’t want to get in your way. Let’s talk and arrange a schedule so that you will know what to expect from your parents. So that I can leave you alone for a while. If you really find you can’t see me, then send Michelle to pick up the car It’s really easy to color memories and change them into things they are not. It’s okay. But if it makes another person, i.e. your mom, into a demon, then maybe you should question your memories. If you were to focus on just our relationship, what you have heard me say or do, and I, just on what you have told me—then I guess there may be pain (I say and do stupid things), but there would also be a lot of love and healing for each of us. Please trust that this is true, and if I could make everything better for you I would, in any way you would want it better. I have kept my distance from you and I have tried. This has been a mistake. I should have talked more, not less. Try to believe that I love you with all my heart, and although I made mistakes, every decision I made for you as a child, about you as a teen, and now as an adult has been for your chance at happiness. Anything else is hurtful to you and to me, and untrue. I’m sorry you have felt ignored. Let me stop ignoring you! I don’t intend to love you. I do love you. I am respecting you by listening to you, not by conceding to your demands. I am respecting myself too by saying what I know is true. I want this family so much. Maybe you don’t see it, but I have been in a lot of pain. I was so happy to be in Seattle where I can breathe literally and have a chance with your dad to mend our family. I was careful not to visit often, or to tell you how much I missed having you home all the time. I was willing to accept your distance from me, and Espe too, to give you a chance to change or to be whatever you liked without my influence. This was another mistake. The mini is yours. It always has been. It was my gift to you and I’ll sign the title over to you as soon as I finish paying for it. Don’t waste your money on rent and food. Use it to finish school and let us continue to help you, until you are financially independent. Then you can ditch us if you still want to. This is in your best interest. We are enmeshed until we aren’t. Please don’t let depression and negativity hurt you. Focus on your school work, and what is good and loving. Meet me and talk to me and tell me in person what’s in your letter if you like. Then let’s make an agreement for limited contact that will give you the chance to be your best in school this year, with no surprises, limited texts, no phone calls and pre-arranged visits only (I thought I did talk to you several weeks before about a visit, and I asked for a time. Not wanting a visit from me does not make it a surprise. I have never, until today, considered surprising any of my children with a visit.) All children must forgive their parents to grow. Please forgive me for any pain I have caused you and let me continue to not only be your mother, but to act as one, and to continue to make mistakes with you, to say things you don’t like as all mothers do, not to torture you but because I care for you in a very insanely unselfish way, and I trust you to know that. Yes, I’m breaking boundaries finally, I am visiting you without asking, and I’m acknowledging your anger and your pain. I am here. I am not ignoring you. So talk to me and tell me, and let’s move on with our lives in a more normal and happy way, with fewer regrets and a lot more talking when you are ready. I love you. MOM
For Phoenix
because they never received the letters
Dear Espe,
You told your grandma that you would not read a letter that was addressed to anyone but you.
I’ve received a letter and messenger texts from Jameson. I’m enclosing my reply to his letter, and my replies to his messenger texts. Please share the reply to his letter with him. Please read the letter to you, and the letter to Jameson. Please read the letters your dad wrote and that I wrote to you, Walt, and Manon. Please share what you read with your therapist. Maybe it will help. If nothing else, perhaps you will read that we love you intensely and I hope you will forgive any pain we have caused you.
I love you. You are my child, my daughter.
I’ve never abandoned you. Or left you without resources. Perhaps with all the changes, your graduation from college, your parents’ marriage, homes being bought and sold, perhaps with all this you felt insecure and unsafe. Maybe you have missed letters or texts. But I have always been here for you, and I have had your dad’s support.
You have always lived on an emotional edge. You told your grandpa Mike that I was cautious. But that is what you wanted, what you needed. In tears you said “No, I need it!” when I weaned you at 2 years old. This broke my heart but it was time for me, and I promised to hold you and to give you your favorite juice. You have always felt emotions deeply. You reacted strongly to being left alone, so we had a family bed before Manon was born. You had a room in our apartment when you were two, but it did not have a bed. You did not sleep in your own bed with any consistency until you were in kindergarten. I loved having you, Manon, and Walt sleep with me. We always slept together when your dad was away. I looked forward to these cuddle times.
You were a toddler reciting “Tikki Tikki Tembo”, making your dad test out tiny pink tube slides on the playground before you ventured to try them, excited when Manon came along walking because she had no caution, and making sure I did not lose baby Walt. You named Right Kitty, Shy Girl, and Rosie Ghost. You were “LIttle Foot”.
I don’t know what is happening here. I understood that you needed some space because you said you felt we did not respect your emotional boundaries, and because of our history together. Perhaps there has been some mis-understanding and some mis-interpretations. Tell me which emotional boundaries I have violated so that I will not do this again.
In Girl Scouts camping you slept with Mrs. Dooley. I counted breaths with you at night. You designed costumes, choreographed dances, created animations about friends, directed Latin videos filmed at Sope Creek, and dressed cosplay with Julie, Ian, and Conor.
Even in the hospital, sick with Crohns, you would find something sharply witty to say, and I would laugh. You also cried, and I drove you to your classes, and held you close. Then I had to let you go. But I watched you carefully to make sure you could fly. And you soared, off to Oxford, and later, a gracious host in your senior year, proudly touring SLC with Walt. You are a wonder child.
I do not now, nor have I ever, wanted to cause you pain. Whenever you screamed after the nurse gave you a vaccination, I disappeared with you to a place deep inside where you nursed yourself to sleep. If you believe I have hurt you in the ways that Jameson describes please talk to me. Apologies will never erase my pain that I hurt you, but they will help yours perhaps, so tell me what you think I’ve done. Let’s get together, perhaps with a mediator if you like, and you can tell me.
Maybe I should have told you that you were very much wanted at home after college, whether you chose to visit or not. Maybe you felt your dad and I betrayed you because our marriage wasn’t what we had said it was. Maybe you felt that you had no place, that Fawn Way was not your home, that 6534 27th Street will not be a home for you either. Maybe you felt really insecure, and I did nothing. You are so young and you have done so much. I sent a lot of texts to you, trying to tell you how remarkable you were, and that you have everything, everything that it takes to be whatever you choose, or to go where ever you want.
I’m hurting, and I’m told, so are you. But you are also happy I hear. I’m happy too. I missed you last year at Christmas and I looked forward to having you with us this year for a very few precious days. I imagined you happy, with Walt and Manon, chatting as you used to do in the language of loving siblings, the queen of the show, telling us all what to do and making us laugh with your wit. I was trying frantically to get the house ready and to make sure there were no spiders in the rafters because you are terrified of spiders. (And Mrs. Dooley wasn’t invited)
I’m sorry you may feel I’m leaving Jameson out. I would like to love and care for him too, but I don’t feel that either you or he wants this. It’s one of the unfortunate things about your Southernness—you have a culture that just wants to smother you with love. Couldn’t you just tolerate this for a few days now and then? and let me be the mom I want to be— a pied piper leading you into fantastic dreams and loving you mercilessly?
Of course this may not be you now.
Sometimes you reached for my hand, even as a teenager, and sometimes you would not let me hug you. You have decided when you would allow a kiss since your preschool lessons about respect.
Perhaps all this hurt could have been avoided if had visited more often these last two years, but I tried to respect that you were busy, enjoying your time with Jameson, writing, and you did not need to talk to me. Or maybe it was your anxiety that drove me away.
I know that my marriage and my response to your dad’s behavior must have caused you pain. Did I say too much, Did I say too little? I suggested we talk about it with a mediator, all of us together, more as a chance to give each of you a place to share/vent your feelings, but this never happened. It could still happen. I just need an OK from each of you.
Last year you said you were depressed and anxious and your dad said you probably felt isolated and alone, so I started texting everyday, just a good morning or something. As I said in Jameson’s letter, I would rather have you irritated, than feeling neglected.
You said in your letter requiring silent treatment, that I should look closely at our relationship to figure out what was wrong and why you needed space. I have taken your suggestion and I’ve examined all the texts, all the emails, all the photos, all the social media, everything I can remember and get my hands on, and this is what I am left with. These are the memories that I do not understand.
I have always loved you, even before I knew you were you, before you were born and I have been in love with you from the first time I looked into your eyes. I miss you all the time but I want your independence too. I miss you as you were before college, before you were sick, and I miss the new more thoughtful you that you seemed to become after. In all the many photos I took of you, I see a joyous, thoughtful, and clever child, and young woman surrounded by loving siblings and friends. I don’t see anything that could create this kind of anger and silence.
There are photos of you gorgeously wearing a light green dress hula hooping with your friends at your Sweet 16 birthday party, sitting in front of a storming window at the Marie Antoinette party where everyone dressed 18th Century and Walt and Manon served multiple fancy courses, there is the Around the world in 80 days lift off from large cardboard boxes with colorful balloons, and the Dr. Who party you gave to Walt. Birthday pinatas and Easter frills and you happy in the center.
You have always been spirited (not exactly the right word), but I do not recognize the anger that seemed to start in you your last semester in college. Was this part of your anxiety, illness, depression? I let it go. I should have asked, but I was distracted by other things. Although bewildering, I did not challenge you. Maybe the stress was the realization that you would be leaving a safe place and venturing into the unknown. For some reason here, I remember Oak Island, and all the campy horror flicks I rented for us to watch. Either Manon or you had some economic summer reading. Was it your Freshman year in high school and the World is Flat? We all tried reading it together.
Ocracoke Island with the Stuycks, and the crashing waves in a small plastic craft. Laughing and staying at the beach until the sun set.
You were angry with me in the fall of your senior year at college. You said your dad’s affair and my response to it stressed you and you would be back on chemotherapy. I’ve worried about this a lot. I tried to avoid arguing with you about anything after this.
You said you used the chair money to buy food that I gave you for your birthday. I was giving you money for food and rent. I do not understand why you did not ask for more if you needed it. I guess because you had the budget and thought that I would scold you. I wanted you to be responsible and to know that we do not have endless pockets of resources, but I like giving you what you need. It was never my desire that you want for anything—clothes, shelter, music, but especially food. I wanted you to come home for a little while after college. I wanted to rejoice with you at your graduation because you achieved so much. I wanted you to believe you were a “princess” and could accomplish anything.
You gave me joy.
I wanted you to have all the things, and all the support, and all the love, that you needed to feel sure of yourself, to feel good about yourself, so that you could, with confidence, make your way in the world after college. I know its silly but I sent you the pink iPhone 7 because I thought that having the latest technology would give you more confidence with interviews and all.
This all seems crazy.
Your Grandma Lavinia would like a visit. She is not so rich and charming as Izzy, but she loves you very much. You and Jameson both are mature enough to see the love and look past any differences of opinion, even if they seem crucial. There was a time when she loved to argue politics, but I think that now she just wants to talk about her life, and you.
I’ve imagined so many scenarios about why you would be acting this way, and about the negative things Jameson says. Now I’m imagining that you disconnect from reality and create nightmares for yourself. Why? That is not loving yourself. If this is so, then I would have liked it if Jameson had known us and loved me more, because then he could have told you that they were just nightmares, and not true, that your mom loves you very much just as you are and dies inside when she hears you are hurting.
I find it bewildering that you let Jameson talk for you. Why not talk to me about why you are asking for silence? I’ll love Jameson, but I’m sure he will never trump (little t) you in my feelings or thoughts.
I’d like it if you would talk to me in person and look at me and tell me what I’ve done to hurt you. I’d like to apologize for any pain I have caused, or you think I have caused. And if you need distance, tell me, and I’ll stay away. Just send a photo each week that shows me you are happy and well. I love you.
Come home soon!
MOM
Written for Phoenix in March 2018, three months after the email we received cutting off and blocking us from all contact with them. This continues to this day.
To Mica
Tue, Sep 11, 2018, 5:54 PM to Mica This is about being trans. Perhaps Espe and Jameson thought I did not respect him. That's simply not true. I thought Jameson was a charming and beautiful woman as Alisa and I was happy that Espe had a roommate who was so kind, and although I do not understand, I am accepting, and I found (before the letters from him in March) him to be a charming and handsome man, whom I was learning to love. I think our family is wonderful and exciting. I love being with my family. I like it that you understand my sense of humor, even if you don't want to, and I am praying that we can trust each other enough to discuss all sorts of things, believe different things, and still deeply love, respect, and care for each other, and not shut each other out, or up, because we don't like, or we don't understand, what is said. I do not like the culture of putting people down, or making people seem nasty. It's pervasive on TV, but it’s fantasy and untrue. People are good, just sometimes stupid. But that's not fun to watch. I believe truly that if we spend more time talking to each other, being together, and that if I simply asked you more often, "What do you mean by that?" and you answered, and I listened, then we could both relax and enjoy being together. (When did the comfort of being together change for us?) In the way we (you and I) are logical, and make connections, you and I think a lot alike. We are also similar in being sensitive to smells, noises, and in our dependence on visual cues. It takes a lot of courage every time I phone you, but I like hearing your voice. And your mailbox is full btw. Of all my children, your voice is most like mine. It's okay that it changes. I'll love your new voice too. And I hope you don't hate the way I look because I think you look a lot like me, and your grandma Lavinia, too. Have you ever seen photos of your grandma when she was young like you? or me? She was beautiful, like you. (I hope you don't mind, but I told her that you were becoming a man. Your dad left the conversation, and she said "Aw Shucks." Maybe she did not understand me. I could use some coaching on what to say.) I'll be happy to talk about difficult or "deep" things with you in person, and your siblings, but I'm ready to "lighten up" and enjoy my world (rather with than without you) and stop writing about such heavy things. I've listened and surmised and tried to figure out the mystery of your behavior and Espe’s and why you believe your mom is someone who does not love you unconditionally, and has not shown love to you with her very being. Mostly I'm left with a lot of love for my children, for my family, for Scott, and confusion, and sadness, that there may be people, because of what they perceive they have to gain, who can say untrue things to hurt others, things that create more anxiety and devastation in a crisis , and words that color a family’s loving worldview with anger, and there is no reason for this. I love you, and I'm very excited about, what feels to me like, the birthing of a new child. Welcome to the world Mica! I accept you. I love you. And you're so brilliant you win every argument I try to have with you. And that just makes me more proud of you! I'm hoping you can visit this weekend and try the hot sauces, and sing Happy Birthday to Walt. Your ever loving, and ever trusting, forever mother
