… a friend once asked. With Mother’s Day approaching, she was in another quagmire of guilt and shame. She wasn’t close to her mother. She didn’t like her mother. And a holiday dedicated to the celebration of mother’s love made things worse.
“It’s not a 24-hour deal like Easter. Mother’s Day is the Thanksgiving and Christmas of Hallmark’s spring. Sobbing commercials – “Mom, I just called, to say I love you.” Sentimental cards – “You were always there.” Flowers, Flowers, and more Flowers. “It’s emotional abuse,” she says.
“Everyone thinks my mom is so great. She’s so sweet. And kind. People love her. But it’s an act. She treats us kids like dogs. Always has.”
“Being there? I don’t know what that means. Unless it gave her a chance to publicly showboat. Then she grinned like she had done the work. But not once did she tell us – good job.”
“She never encouraged us – she demanded, perfection. We knew whom we represented and that we were expected to represent well. Anything less was met with that tone of disappointment, then a cold chill.”
“She shot down my dream. My life would have turned out so differently if she had not shot down my dream.”
“My brothers and sisters, we look good on paper. But we all had low self-esteem. Relationship problems. And we all passed this crap on to our kids. You can’t give what you never got.”
To hear the hurt, and yes hate, in her voice made her almost unrecognizable. The woman I knew was strong, self-confident, and she’s right – looks good on paper. But …
… behind her bravado was low self-esteem.
… behind her relationship failures was a child who never saw her mother love her husband.
… behind her polish was a person living a mama’s dream to get her approval.
“Once I was out shopping and these young girls were talking about their mothers. One said – ‘my mother is my best friend.’ I cried. Ran out of the store. I knew I would never have that type of relationship with my mother.”
Not for lack of trying or want.
From childhood she tried to please – needed money, she was there. Needed a ride, she was there. Needed to witch (which she did a lot), she was there. Of all the kids, she was the one who was always there. Because she was called (people know who’s gonna run). Because she needed to. But never did. Hear the words – I love you.
The family knew mom was crazy. All had suffered her erratic emotions that were verbal abuse. You never knew what would set her off, so they avoided her. As much as possible. That didn’t work for her.
She hoped and hoped and kept hoping …
Then she stopped.
It was a usual family gathering. Parents. Few other family members. Then her mother dawged her for something she had not done. To avoid the tidal wave, other family members joined mama’s cause.
As she put herself to sleep, she cried.
And she got angry. She’d absolutely had it.
So she let it out. Not on her mother or her family. She knew that would do no good – she’d been down that road.
She got professional help. For all her feelings of inadequacy and shame.
The shrink was good (she said he was). He listened (which he should), did not judge (which he shouldn’t), and for the first time in her life helped her realize she was normal (thank you Jesus).
It was okay to want her mother’s love.
It was okay to try to please out her mother’s love.
It was okay to feel guilty.
It was okay at times to hate.
Her mother’s obvious issues of low self-esteem, needed to “get before she was got”, pointing out the “flaws” in others to make herself feel better, need not be her issues.
It was okay. She was okay. And not alone. Others were like her too.
She finally felt normal and could let it all go.
She’s made peace. With herself, and as a result her mom, even though her mom doesn’t know it.
She knows the pain her mother must be in to be like she is … she’d only wish on her worst enemy (ha ha).
She doubts she and her mother will ever be best friends.
But that’s okay too.
Her mother does love her. It’s not the love she needs, but she respects it for what it is.
She now loves herself, and her mom.
Sometimes they even laugh.
She’s learned good love – to and for herself.
To her and her mom and other’s who identify, she says “Happy Mother’s Day. It’s okay.”
