Poetry - Mismatched

The idea for this poem arose the morning of Mother's Day and I promised to write it soon. My thoughts finally gelled into the piece below.  We so rarely talk of families members being mismatched, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen for a lot of us. While a bit sad, my purpose really is to simply shine a spotlight on the issue so people can let go of the guilt. Sometimes no one is doing anything wrong. It is okay to quit banging our collective heads against the wall, and just acknowledge we all did our best.  

Photo by Chanhee Lee on Unsplash

Mismatched

by Marilyn R. Wilson

At birth my mother smiled.

The signs were favorable

Blonde hair, blue eyes, a girl.

Just what she hoped for. 

Future visions were formed.

She would love school.

She would smile a lot.

She would play piano.

She would love the church.

She would...................

My mother's dreams kept growing.

At birth, I arrived.

The signs were favorable.

Two parents in a happy marriage.

Just what I hoped for.

Future visions were formed.

They would love me.

They would support me.

They would accept me as I am.

They would feed and clothe me

They would...........

And my own dreams kept growing.

Somewhere in my early years,

We realized the signs lied.

I was not the daughter they imagined.

I looked the part on the outside, 

But was bored easily, lacked patience,

And was frustratingly temperamental.

Not only was I not sugar and spice,

I wasn't even puppy dog tails.

I didn't love school

And didn't fit the church's ideal 

Of what a young lady should be.

Somewhere in my early years,

We realized the signs lied.

They were not the parents I imagined.

They looked the part on the outside,

And there was no doubt they loved me,

But they wanted the girl they envisioned.

They couldn't accept who I was.

Who I was was embarrassed them.

Frustrated them to no end. 

I was obviously broken and needed fixing.

Mending me became their mission.

We grew apart. We fought.

A trio both disappointed, yet hopeful,

That the other side would cave.

We would stay ourselves,

The others admit they were wrong,

And morph into our perfect vision.

In the end, however, 

All we could be was ourselves.

Our heart's continued to yearn,

But the solution could never be found.

For we were hopelessly, eternally mismatched.