I loved my mom, I hated my mom.

Mother's Day

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Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

It’s Mother’s Day, in fact, it’s 5:48am. I woke up tired, again. My first thought was “Oh, today is Mother’s Day. Then — oh, today IS Mother’s Day.”

I saw my mom in my mind’s eye. My very next thought was, trigger warning here, “What if she dies today?” I know, at first it sounds quite bad. But, a little back story.

Some people know this because I finally shared it after 30 years on my YouTube channel - because it’s taken me a lifetime to be honest with myself, and because I decided to make content for the first time ever at 50. No Facebook or Instagram, etc.

I was sick of therapists acting like we knew it all and had it all figured out - some of the most incredibly talented helpers have f-ed up childhoods- -it’s what makes us able to sit with you, to understand you, to have empathy and to share our often life seeking journey of healing and education. Ah, but I digress. I like to pre-load my content, and some of you love that, others not so much - lol:)

Anyway, in 1991 my father took his own life on Father’s Day weekend. Needless to say it was devastating, and yet not unexpected. But how could a 23 year old even prepare for that? Hence my thought this morning.

What makes this day so complicated and painful is that I have not spoken to my mom since I was 50. I just turned 57 a few months ago. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. Do I regret never having one safe parent, let alone a safe mother from the day I was born? Yes, yes I do. It’s never not hurt to feel like I am “nobody’s girl,” that I will never know what my kids know - the safety of a mother’s love.

But here’s the thing. I spent 50 years trying to love her, please her, forgive her, change her, accept her - all to no avail. She could be funny and helpful and she could be cruel, harsh, highly unpredictable. She she was the definition of an abusive, eggshell parent. Period, the end.

I am working on a book, and as I am exploring more about my childhood while researching, reading and reflecting upon my my experience, and frankly, upon many of yours — I find myself more and more devastated that I had two graduate degrees in psychology, and still let her harm me for so long.

But her brand of “love” was the only brand I ever knew. Sometimes I loved her, sometimes I hated her. When she was kind enough, I lived in a dissociated state, numbing myself to her cruelty. When she was mean, I snapped back into the reality of her harm, but did I think it was abusive back then?

No, I was a victim with a warped sense of captivity. As soon as she was “good,” again, I made myself be good again too. Sometimes it took me a while, but I always found myself back in the prison of our complicated relationship. Numb, distracted - in denial.

I shape-shifted myself to make it all ok - until I didn’t. And it was the best decision of my life. I finally chose myself. Did it hurt? Does it hurt? Absofreakinglutely. But did it hurt as bad to live in her dark shadow, to take her constant anger, verbal abuse, accusations, sabotaging attempts to turn my own children against me, hijacking every holiday and hurt me most when I was most in need….among 5 million other horrific things she did? No, not for one second.

Admitting to myself, and beginning years of therapy, which continues— that I was not born with a mother capable of loving me, nor a father — has been slow, grindingly painful work. Too many tears, so many sessions asking my therapist why, repeating the same stories, trying to understand, telling my therapist “but I know she loved me,” for her to reply “perhaps, but is that what love should feel like?”

Make no mistake, it is work. But it might just be some of the most important work of my life, and your life too. Especially because we are living in a world with free flowing opinions and guilt ridden statements like “But she’s your mom! She was just learning to “human,” too! What about her?” And to this I say “EXACTLY! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A MOTHER, NOT A MONSTER!” Ok, that may have been dramatic and actually, I don’t think of her that way. Going no contact has actually allowed me separate myself from her - to untie the enmeshed invisible strings of our relationship. I don’t feel constantly angry at her, I don’t feel a lot about her anymore to be honest.

All I did for 50 years was FEEL her painful love. It was time to let her go, to free myself so I could feel something other than constantly bad about myself. I was done with feeling like I was “just a bad daughter and she was a good mother.”

But I do feel sad that she lost out on both of us growing old together. I feel sad that she will never really know me. Because I am pretty freaking awesome - and so are you.

It was never our responsibility as children to establish a good relationship - it was hers, or theirs. I did my part as an adult to work with her once I became an adult - what other option was there? In my work, I always advise patients to try everything else first if they can —and if their parent is not actively abusive. We talk about healing, confronting, setting boundaries, starting with low contact - etc. I have never once in my entire career encouraged a patient to immediately go no contact. Frankly, I don’t think I have ever said those words.

But sometimes it’s the only choice- my job is to walk alongside my clients and help them navigate what they want to do - and to support, enlighten and walk with them carrying that burden. Because it’s a burden I know well. But I refuse to continue to carry a burden that doesn’t belong to me.

Every single day I worry about, think about, and work to maintain a loving, supportive and safe relationship with my four children. It isn’t always easy. I don’t always get it right. (It’s hard to parent young adults some days - something NO one talks about enough.)

But it’s always easy to love them, it has never been hard one day in my life.

I will do anything it takes to stay close to them.

They will always be the most important humans in my life. When they tell me I need to work on something, I need to listen, I need to understand - I try with every ounce in my body to do so.

Because that is what mothers are supposed to do. That is what a mother’s love is supposed to feel like: safe, reliable, warm, open. But, love alone is not enough.

And yes, to my therapist, love INCLUDES safety, reliability, warmth and openness.

Happy Mother’s Day to every single one of you today - whether you are choosing your own mother’s love to celebrate or because today you are being reminded that a mother’s love should be safe— and it’s time to choose yourself.

You are worthy of good, safe love —and you always were my friend.

xoxo

One of my babies with my newest baby:)