This is a repost cause i deleted all my fics
Major warning if you have mommy issues or daddy issues or parental neglect issues pls do not read this
and if you do read this pls don't blame me for anything, including but not limited to excessive crying/sobbing, a depression slump/ wanting to kill someone or anything else
Alexia Putellas X Child!Reader
Summary: Why does she not keep her promises
"Why do I keep reaching out to you, hoping for some semblance of acknowledgment, only to be met with silence and indifference?
âMami, I made it into the schoolâs football team.â Ten year old you was very excited to tell Alexia that you made the football team. She was on her computer watching replays of her matched yesterday, she promised you she would fetch you from school toady but instead of her your helper was there. But you told yourself it was okay because Mami was busy and you could just tell her the good news when you got home. When you told her the news, she looked at you and asked you not to bother her while she was working, and that sheâll talk to you during dinner. So you went to your room to do your schoolwork. When you finally finish all your school work and extra revision, you went out of your room to find your Mami,but she wasnât there so you asked your helper. She said Alexia, went out to meet up with friends. After dinner, you decide to wait up for her and read a book in the mean time, by the time she got backed you were almost done with the book and was really sleepy. But you still ran up to her and greet her, she pushed you away telling you that she was too tired and went to her room to sleep. You went back to your room, sitting on your bed, holding your book tightly, you couldn't help but wonder why Mami didn't seem to care about you. Why did she always ignore you when you just wanted her to notice you and be proud of you? Why did you keep trying to talk to her, hoping she would finally pay attention to you, even though she never did?
Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered to yourself, "Why couldnât she be proud of me like the moms in the stories are of their children?â
Why do I continue to bend over backwards to fulfill your every request, knowing deep down that you're just putting on a facade for others?
âMami, can I go to the arcade with my friends itâs the last day of school, and we want to do something fun together.â You were now eleven, older then ten but still young enough to think Alexia could change. Alexia had just came home from training,but she was on the phone with someone so she told you to quiet down. You sighed and walked to your room to put down your bag and change into something comfortable. You decide to do your work as you thought if you finished it your Mami would let you go out with your friends. When you heard Alexia said her goodbyes to whoever was on the phone. You opened your room door and called for her, and reapeated the question adding in the fact that you finished your school work. She said you werenât allowed to go out today and you could go out with them tomorrow instead, you tried to explain to her that most of your friends would be out of the country but she said you shouldnât argue with her as she was your mother, and that she had a reason for saying no. You asked her what the reason was and she said her teammates were coming over for teambuilding and she wanted you to help bring them drinks and buy food and snacks for them. You just nodded your head and said yes knowing there was no use arguing. By the time you got back her teammates were already there, you heard her teammate, Ingrid, compliment how good you are. But your Mami just dismissed it and said that it was just how you were. Her other teammate Lucia asked her if you played football, Alexia laughed and said she didnât think so. Feeling a lump form in your throat, you dropped the bag of snacks to the floor, causing concern from the adults. You assured them you were fine and quietly announced to your mom that you were going to bed, your heart heavy with disappointment and a growing understanding of the reality of your relationship.
When you stepped into your room, the weight of disappointment and frustration became too much to bear. You collapsed onto your bed, letting the tears flow freely as you allowed yourself to finally break down. The floodgates of emotion opened, releasing the pent-up feelings of rejection, loneliness, and hurt that you had been holding back. With each sob, you felt a little bit of the burden lift from your shoulders, yet the ache in your heart remained, a constant reminder of the unmet longing for your mother's love and approval.
Why do I lie to those around me, insisting that your absence isn't your fault, when I know it is?
âMiss SĂĄnchez, my mom canât make it to my graduation, because she has some work issues.â
You were now 12 and graduating from Primary school, you knew you werenât telling the truth but it was technically not a lie either. Your teacher asked if you wanted her to speak to your mom to ask her to come but you said it was okay and you knew your mom was busy that day. Your best friend, Zoe, did not believe you and asked you to tell her why your mom couldnât come. You told her that she was just busy and that it wasnât her fault because she was the captain and she had to help her teammates. Zoe said it was bullshit, and you agreed but you just couldnât bring yourself to say it after all she was still your mom. Zoe asked you again why she actually couldnât come and you finally told her the truth, that your Mom was training another girl the same age as you, and that the girls graduation was the same day as yours but her parents couldnât make it so your mom promised the girl she would go instead. When the day of the graduation came, you didnât even see Alexia in the morning as she said she was going to get breakfast with the girl, you looked in the mirror and thought to yourself,â Why didnât she remember or keep or the promises she made for me but keeps the promises she makes for this girl. She didnât even remember the fact she promise you she would be at your graduation, two weeks ago.â
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the day you'd confront her, letting the anger and hurt fuel your determination to rise above her absence. You knew you deserved better, and you vowed to become stronger, despite her shortcomings. Why do I constantly make excuses for your shortcomings, even though you never bother to show up for me?
And you... why do you harbor such animosity towards me that you refuse to even acknowledge my existence anymore?
âHey, have you talk to your mom about the road trip yet?â Zoe asked. You said you havenât had the time to, but the truth was your Mom was spending more time with Elena the girl whose graduation she went to and missed yours as a consequence, and hadnât been talking to you for about a week , if you were still twelve you would have been sobbing your eyes out but you were now thirteen and realize what your mom was truly like to you. The only interaction you had was when she gave you money or you gave her something to sign, not that you didnât try on your part you send her messages asking her if she wanted to go out for breakfast, lunch, dinner or even to just kick the ball around but she didnât see it much less respond to it or said yes. You even resorted to leaving notes on the table but when you came back home instead of seeing a reply the note was in the trash. You were very sure she wouldnât even notice your gone as the road trip was only for a week, and you wanted to test out your theory. So you asked her to give you a weeks worth of allowance when you finally saw her and agreed, probably because it meant she wouldnât have to interact more with you.
When you came back from the road trip, you found that your theory was sadly accurate. Your mom hadn't even noticed you were gone. There were no inquiries about your trip, no excitement to hear about your adventures, no concern for your well-being. It was as if you had never left.
At first, the realization stung. You couldn't understand why your own mother seemed to harbor such animosity towards you, why she couldn't spare a moment to acknowledge your existence. But as the days passed, you began to accept the truth: your relationship with your mom was not what you had hoped it would be. She was more invested in Elena, more interested in her life and her accomplishments, than she was in yours.
It hurt, of course it did. But you were thirteen now, no longer the naive twelve-year-old who believed that her mom's love and attention were guaranteed. You knew better. And so, with a heavy heart but a steely resolve, you made a silent vow to yourself: you wouldn't waste any more time trying to win your mom's affection.
What did I do to deserve such disdain from my own flesh and blood?
âI didnât do anything wrong Mom, she tried to take my necklace!â You tried explaining to your , mom. But she didnât listen to you instead taking away your necklace and giving it to Elena, and telling her to go to the living room. Elena acted like an angel in front of her saying it was okay but when she walked out and your momâs back was facing towards her she gave you a smirk as if saying now you know who she loves more. You tried explaining the situation again, but your mom said she didnât want to listen to you and that she was so disappointed that she raised such a selfish and jealous daughter. You wanted to protest and state your case but you gave up knowing there was no point, you were now fourteen you told yourself it would just be four years until your out of this emotional hell hole and you would be with the person who treated you like her actual daughter. The person who gave you the necklace Elena took.
What flaw in me is so repulsive that you would rather speak to her than to me, your own daughter?
âMom, can I talk to you about football tatics,?â you asked. You asked Alexia about football tactics, hoping to bond over something you both enjoyed, but she brushed you off, claiming she was too busy. You said it was okay and continued to read, when you heard the phone ring, Alexia had answered with a âHola,Pequeñaâ and you knew she was talking to Elena, as Elena was the only one she called Pequeña, she defiteniley didnât call you that or anyother nickname in the first place. Hell she doesnât even acknowlege your her daughter unless sheâs scolding you and telling you how she couldnât believe she raised you.
Feeling rejected once again, you retreated to your room, wondering what flaw in you was so repulsive that your own mother would rather speak to someone else.
You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of her indifference pressing down on you like a heavy blanket.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to make sense of the situation, to understand what was so wrong with you that she would rather speak with her instead. But you went to your bathroom wipe your tears, and reminded your self you were now fifteen and that when you were twelve you vowed to yourself that you would no longer allow Alexia's indifference to define you.
And despite all the hurt and disappointment you've caused, why do I still cling to the hope that one day, you'll finally be there for me, even though you've never shown any inclination to do so in the past?
âMom, I have an important football match today, can you come to support me?â You asked, your voice tinged with a flicker of hope despite the years of disappointment weighing heavy on your heart.
Alexia glanced up from her phone, her expression distant as she muttered something about being busy and needing to focus on her and Elenaâs own training. The familiar sting of rejection pierced through you once again, but you quickly masked your disappointment with a forced smile.
Deep down, you knew better than to expect her to show up. You knew the pattern all too well â your mother's absence, her lack of interest in your life, her constant prioritization of others over you. But still, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, a small part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
As you made your way to the football field, your heart heavy with the weight of unmet expectations, you tried to push aside the nagging doubts and convince yourself that today would be the day she finally showed up for you. But deep down, you knew the truth â that no matter how much you wished for her presence, she would never be there to cheer you on, to celebrate your victories, or to comfort you in your defeats.
And yet, despite all the hurt and disappointment she had caused, despite the countless times she had let you down, you couldn't help but cling to the hope that one day, she would finally be there for you. It was a hope born from a deep-seated longing for a mother's love and approval, a hope that refused to die despite the harsh reality of your relationship. Even though you promise yousrelf that you would stop, but this was her last chance, you were now seventeen but was turning eighteen soon and she didnât take it, so you knew your decision.
After the game, that you won, you looked into the stands even though you knew no one would be there to your surprise, the women you met at a match your mom played, who then became the person who treated you like her actual daughter was there.
Her warm smile and enthusiastic applause filled you with a sense of validation and belonging that you had longed for but never received from your own mother.
As you made your way over to her, she enveloped you in a tight hug, congratulating you on your victory and praising your performance on the field and telling you that she couldnât wait until you joined her to play in arsenal. The person who treated you like her actual daughter and the person you call Ma when you talked to, was Leah Williamson. In that moment, surrounded by her genuine affection and support, you felt a sense of relief wash over you â a sense of relief that you no longer needed to rely on your mother's approval to feel valued and loved.
I just wish one day I'll have enough courage to let go of the futile longing for your love and acceptance, and to find the strength to accept that you may never change, no matter how much I yearn for your presence in my life.
âYou ready to go yet?â Your Ma asked you. You told her to give you a few minutes, you look around your now barren room, all the memories flooding back.
The first time you made it into a football team,
"Mom, I made it into the schoolâs football team."
"That's nice, honey," Alexia replied absentmindedly, her eyes glued to the screen.
"But you promised you'd pick me up today," you reminded her, your excitement dampened by her lack of attention.
"I know, sweetie, but something came up. The helper will take care of you," she said, barely sparing you a glance.
Disappointed but hopeful, you waited until dinner to share your news, hoping for a moment of connection.
"Not now, I'm busy," Alexia brushed you off, immersed in her work.
Crestfallen, you retreated to your room, the weight of her indifference pressing down on you.
"Why doesnât she care?" you whispered to yourself, tears welling in your eyes. "Why can't she just be proud of me?"
The last day of school when you were eleven,
"Mami, can I go to the arcade with my friends? Itâs the last day of school," you asked, longing for a moment of fun.
"Not today, darling," Alexia replied, her attention divided between you and her phone call.
"But I finished all my work," you protested, desperate for her approval.
"I said no. End of discussion," she declared, her tone final.
Defeated, you resigned yourself to another night at home, your heart heavy with disappointment.
Your graduation when you were twelve,
"Mom, why can't you come to my graduation?" you asked, masking the hurt in your voice.
"I have a work commitment, sweetie," Alexia replied, her words ringing hollow.
"But you promised," you whispered, the weight of her broken promises crushing you.
As the day of your graduation arrived, you watched as Alexia left to attend another girl's ceremony, leaving you behind.
"Why does she always choose someone else over me?" you wondered, the sting of rejection burning deep.
When Elena took your necklace, and she took her side,
"I didnât do anything wrong, Mom," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion.
"I don't want to hear it," Alexia cut you off, her disappointment palpable.
"Why won't you listen to me?" you pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks.
As you stood in your room, the silence echoed around you, a painful reminder of your mother's absence.
"Mom, please," you begged, your voice breaking with emotion.
But there was no answer, only the emptiness of your own heartache.
With all this memories flooding back to you, you decided to write her a letter,
As you can see iâm no longer calling you mom. Since I was ten iâve been making excuses as to why you didnât care for me, I remember the times when I reached out to you, hoping for even a semblance of acknowledgment, only to be met with silence and indifference. Like when I excitedly told you I made it into the school's football team, only to have you brush me off, too busy with your own affairs to spare a moment for me. Or when I asked if I could go to the arcade with my friends, hoping for a moment of fun together, only to be shut down without a second thought.
I've bent over backwards to fulfill your every request, hoping against hope that maybe this time, you would see me, truly see me, and be proud of me. But time and time again, I've been met with disappointment and heartache.
I've lied to those around me, insisting that your absence isn't your fault, when deep down, I know it is. I've made excuses for your shortcomings, trying to shield you from judgment, even though you've never bothered to show up for me.
And I've wondered, time and time again, what flaw in me is so repulsive that you would rather speak to someone else than to me, your own daughter. I've cried myself to sleep, wondering why you harbor such animosity towards me, why you refuse to even acknowledge my existence anymore.
But despite all the hurt and disappointment you've caused, I still cling to the hope that one day, you'll finally be there for me. That one day, you'll see me for who I am and love me unconditionally, just like in the stories.
But I've come to realize that hope can be a dangerous thing, especially when it's placed in someone who may never change. So I'm writing this letter to let you know that I no longer need to cling to that hope. I no longer need to yearn for your love and acceptance, because I've found it elsewhere.
I've found it in the woman who treated me like her own daughter, who was there for me when you weren't. I've found it in the friends who have stood by me through thick and thin. And most importantly, I've found it within myself.
I hope that I have fulfil your wished that I no longer disappoint you as Iâm no longer your problem or yoursâs anymore as I finally have enough courage to let go of the futile longing for your love and acceptance, and to find the strength to accept that you may never change, no matter how much I yearn for your presence in my life
