A Lesson in Geometry for the Math Hater

By Jessy Cheyenne

Dear Mom,

I love you, always.

From going head to head with principals and teachers when I was a child to dominating your own legal battles you have taught me to fight for what is right. And To stand up even in the face of fear.

From scraped knees to a broken hymen to a broken heart you sucked the blood out of every wound life dealt me growing up, you taught me how I want to be as a mother and to always be empathic.

you always said that if you didn’t put me on some therapists couch then you didn’t do your job as a mother… I thought you were kidding.

Which brings me to your sense of humor. Thank you. Thank you for laughing with me at life’s tragedies, showing me there is always a joke to be made to lessen the pain and that life shouldn’t be taken too seriously because in 100 years this won’t matter.

From time outs, to bruised butt cheeks, to grounding me for weeks on end – you taught me accountability and that there are consequences for every action.

From lying to me at age 7 by telling me you would buy me all the Bernstein bears books I wanted after you had caught me in a lie to giving my toys away to my friends if I refused to share, you taught me honesty, integrity, and generosity.

From taking me to church with grandma and grandpa to not forcing me to choose a religion you taught me faith and a belief in a higher power I can understand.

Dear Lynda,

now, fear is all that you are.

And It turns out you weren’t kidding -and now I’m still tearing apart every wound you have given me on therapists’ couches to examine, analyze, reanalyze, accept, and reshape them into scars of beauty but I can’t empathize with you anymore.

I normally can always laugh at anything; just like you, but right now, I’m at a loss for humor. Even if this doesn’t matter in 100 years it matters right now.

And Now you can’t even hold yourself accountable to something you said 5 minutes ago when I’ve been apologizing for the same mistake for years.

So Now all I do is lie to you and you are the only person I am deliberately untruthful with because I can’t miss crossing a fucking T in a sentence without hearing how disappointed you are.

Dear mom,

The Last time you told me you were proud of me, I believed you.

At first.

But, now I know You can’t speak a word not rooted in fear and through this I’m learning to heal.

Because when you constantly contradict yourself you begin to lose your own voice and I don’t believe a damn thing you say, good or bad.

So, Mommy-

I’m sorry

I’m sorry I can’t make you proud but no one can.

I’m Sorry if I didn’t turn out how you wanted but you taught me that you don’t always get that in life.

I’m Sorry I don’t follow every rule or piece of advice you give me but take everything into consideration that you have said …and then make my own decisions. Moms Rules are followed strictly at 7, not 27.

I’m sorry my choices weren’t based on your “divine” plan. But you taught me life is about praying for God’s plan and what he wants for me and doing my best to follow that path.

And considering where I was three years ago I’ve far surpassed even my own “plan”— so don’t fear a thing Ma- where you and I have a faltered I was STILL carried by Him.

Your plan is not divine- God takes care of that. Thank you for introducing him to me and I hope you can find him again.

Most of all Mommy,

I’m sorry you are so miserable. I’m sorry you can’t find happiness or anyway to pursue it and I’m sorry I couldn’t help despite my desperation through the years and I’m sorry I don’t even care anymore to try. All I can do is pray, paint, and write to keep my hope alive.

Now I understand how you felt three years ago trying to help someone who didn’t want it and I guess that’s part of fate because while I can’t empathize with you now I can feel what you felt then.

Everyone always said I’d turn into my mother and I did.

I may have stumbled but by the grace of God – I turned into the woman she was when I was a child: caring, dedicated, loyal, empathic to a fault, stubborn, honest, a bitch with the best intentions, and a woman who knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to stand in the face of a challenge even if her knees shake because she knows in the end it will turn out how it’s supposed to when it’s supposed to. I just wish you were still here to see how many blessings have come my way through the lessons, morals, and beliefs that you gave me so freely.

Life clearly always comes full circle but you’ve been running around the same one over and over again for years and I just don’t have in me to chase you anymore.

Sooo Tangent-

I should clarify- I love you always means I love the memories I have of you.

I don’t want to live a life without a mother I can be close to.

But how?

when this is the longest funeral I’ve ever had to attend and I’ve been mourning your loss for years.

So like others I have loved and lost I will carry your memory with me and if at one point you come back around this circle and stop – I’ll meet you here, at the point of this tangent with my arms wide open.


The Daughter that majored in math (sorry it wasn’t accounting)


Jessy grew up in the suburbs of NJ, twenty minutes from NYC and currently live in NYC with her boyfriend.  At 27 years old she has experienced love and loss in marriage and divorce and blessings and misfortunes in her home in NYC and in homelessness.  It is her dream to get her experiences and what she celebrates in life onto paper either in the written word or other mediums. “Living is easy with eyes closed,” which is why she chooses to live her life, with her eyes WIDE OPEN. You can find her on Facebook and Instagram.

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