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She’s Not Your Daughter
She’s not your daughter.” She shouted, face angry, but the words stabbed, because the little girl was not a possession, something to show off like a shiny new car, but a person with dreams and ambitions.
In her fear, the little girl stared, frightened; she had stepped into a battle she hadn’t asked for, but she felt neither safe nor comfortable with the woman who had given birth to her.
“She’s not a possession something, to pay attention only when it matters to you.”
There was anger in my words, I was angry, the little girl deserved so much more than what she was receiving. When she was with me, she knew what it was like to be happy and secure.
Although technically we weren’t related, her mother was a good friend of mine who was far from a good parent, her child had become a pawn in an unwinnable game.
Although Julie was not my biological daughter, in the ways that really mattered to me, she was. In my heart, I would do anything for Julie, but the courts didn’t view it that way.
“You’re not her mother.” The words were thrown around again like daggers.
© Michelle R Kidwell
July.13.2022
Revised April.08.2024
