Miranda Moloto

New York, South Africa

What is the one word that describes you? Fiery

An open letter you never received, written in my journals going back many years.

My dear.

It is Mother's Day. It is day 31 since we last spoke. We don't greet or even look at each other. It is not just the silence that weighs me down; it is the hostility, the despair as I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I cannot even remember what the last fight was about; all I feel is- I’m heavy, dull and tired. I have chosen to do a nurturing deed for this day, to feed the longing inside. So, I drive to the children's home down the road from our house to bathe the babies, feed them and rock them to sleep.
Today, most of the volunteers have not come, presumably they are with their spouses or families and getting a Mother's Day treat. As for me, I'm alone. You have a meeting with your friends? Or was it with your brother? All the same, you declined an offer of breakfast with me.
As I sit in the rocking chair, the tears begin to well up, and I am relieved a little. Then I cry some more, but I'm not in pain. Then a smile and suddenly an epiphany: "So why am I still staying with him?"
I have had a full month of ”being alone", eating, sleeping alone. So why am I still with him? The last period of silence lasted five months. I’m afraid this could be one of those again.
My baby-sitting shift ends at 17h00, but I got so anxious and excited about the sudden revelation and I want to share it right now. I asked the caretaker if I could leave at 16h30.
My step is quick and purposeful. The tears have dried. My body is light. And I made the announcement - I am leaving!

But the real story begins when I look back at all my lessons.

You used to remind me all the time to try and learn some stuff from your mother. Well, I did. You just never got to know about it. The lessons brought on steady, small and subtle changes- how could you have known? I sometimes did not even know I had learnt.
I knew things had changed when the tears dried. My vision was clear.
From your Mother…
On all the occasions when I would tell her about my challenges of dealing with the long silences, she would intimate on how she had coped with same silences for all these years, and for that I am grateful. The silences were long, hostile and hurtful. Ignoring, evading and acting as normal especially in company just did not work for me.
I honoured her with her own choices which helped me investigate and find my own creative means of living through them. And because she still sounded sad to me. I chose different solutions from hers. None of us were wrong or right, we just chose different ways of reacting to hostile silences. Believe me, I learnt.
About Gratitude and Affirmation…
My graduation ceremony is coming up in a few weeks. You are refusing to come along. Your father (bless his heart) reckons I am making a fuss over a graduation. Your mom is unable to come along as she is scared of both of you. The hurt of not having my partner share my moment of achievement could not hold me down. I could not wait for all of you to affirm me, not even my own mother could fulfill that role. I had to do it myself.
I hired the graduation gear. I shopped for the blue suit, not enough money for new shoes, my old pair will have to do. The turmoil, the hurt, the pain, the anger and simply the confusion of celebrating a career milestone without you, I thought this was an automatic expectation from my partner. You see, that is how I thought the “partnership” of marriage works.
Well, the moment came and passed. I had done it! My hard work, my perseverance and my consistency was what I was celebrating. I therefore grudgingly accepted your choice not to attend, and went ahead to honour my own achievement. My Mother dear, attends my graduation and that, still was not enough. Looking back, looking at my pictures, I know that my greatest achievement was that of self-acknowledgement, self-affirmation.

And many more days followed of not being acknowledged, over and over again I would swallow hard and stand in front of the mirror and "greet" myself in the morning (when you wouldn't) or just thank myself (when I could not get it from you), or I would go down to the coffee shop and have a capuccino and cake to "celebrate" my contribution, or go and get the next new piece of underwear at Woolworths or take the long luxurious baths with candles (and the door locked). Remember those? It was about self-affirmation, my dear. I learnt how to do this well.
The divorce…
From my parents' divorce I learnt from a very early age that we were better off without two parents who were hostile towards one another. I had the shock of living away from my father, and watching my mother struggle to feed and educate us but, that was better than enduring the hostility between them. Was this all part of God's plan then? I'm certain it is. And the lesson is an ongoing one – the choice to have half a life with a partner or living in joy (as we were all meant to be) on my own. A hard choice to make. A courageous one nonetheless.
They taught me well. So thank you for bringing up my “broken family” (as though it is an infectious diseases) in the many fights. You just never knew how that made me appreciate the lesson even more.
Children are not ours…
The long silences provided a quiet atmosphere for doing my soul journey, I ended up occupying my time by working at the Door of Hope (mine door or the abandoned babies’?).
I learn: "children do not have to come from my belly for me to love them"! There are so many in the world and I have enough love to go around.
There are infinite way and opportunities to fulfill the “parent role”.
Being around other couples at the “home”…provided a place of meeting amazing people. We never shared our personal stories, we were just bound by the common thread of giving time and love. My time with you my dear brought this lesson in a convoluted painful struggle...but like all valuable lessons, I learnt it. The hard way!
This body is perfect…
Did I ever tell you about my body? Yes I'm a brown...some people have even called me Chocolate M&M (and many other names). None of them think I am "too dark" after all I am an African so what other colour could I be?
Did I ever tell you that my small weird nose- is my father's signature on my face?
Oh...and the hips and butt, that you on occasion you would criticize. It is an African heritage another signature of my ancestors that some women envy. Thank you for bringing these body parts to my attention...I learned to notice them. I learnt to dress them up in ways that flatter the brown skin and the hips. And now I am able to bring up MY BODY as a topic of discussion, I will tell you (or anyone) about my body. I compliment my best parts and I have great acceptance of the parts that look imperfect. How liberating! How would I have known this without the hostile criticism from the love of my life?

I would have never known how to fight fair. I would have never learnt to keep my temperament in check, to count up to ten before I respond. To listen and to hear. To know when to shut up. To choose my battles. If I had not been in your class, I would have missed the lesson and your valuable guidance.

My unintentional teacher and guide, I want to thank and honour you for helping me through the many lessons. Learning to reframe my expectations, discovering the beautiful creation that I am, reclaiming my power and tenacity, standing in the truth even when it cut my heart deeply, reprogramming my views on couple-dom, the liberation of girl/woman/ child in me and most of all the humility of knowing the wholeness of my essence!
You are truly an incredible person! You took time out of your own life to make sure I graduate. At times I would be kicking and screaming, sometimes ranting and raving and swearing but you remained patient. Other times you made me re-do the class, that was hard and painful. I was a reluctant and uncooperative student. But I'm grateful.

An extract of my many journals before and after I left!
Miranda