Mother’s Day

mystical motherOkay. Mother’s Day is coming. Again. This is one of my least favorite weeks in the year, every year. Advertisements for honoring your mother because she gave you life and because she took such good care of you. Not my mother. We’ve been working on mother stuff in therapy. I cry about her, I scream about her, I get body memories about what she did. I spend time pushing my therapist away, physically, trying to get out of my mother’s painful grasp. She enabled the abuse. She knew about the abuse. She participated in the abuse. She abused me. My MOTHER abused me; emotionally, physically, sexually. Mothers are not supposed to do that. Mothers are supposed to protect, love, care for, nurture their children. Lots of mothers do those things even when their children are adults. I protect, love, care for, nurture my children. I tell them how beautiful and smart they are. I love them and cuddle them and snuggle with them. I smile at them. I tell them I love them. How do I know how to do these things if my mother never did them for me? Maybe because I am committed to not mothering the way she did. One of the things I hate most in therapy is hearing that I need to learn to be my own best mother. I don’t want to have to be my own mother. I want a mother. I want someone else to be my mother. I want somebody else to be responsible for loving, nurturing, and protecting me. I really struggle with accepting this situation. I’ve been looking for a mother all of my adult life. I guess it’s time to stop. My current therapist, MT, is not going to be my mother. She will not do that. She will encourage me and push me to be my own best mother, but she is not going to be my mother. So, yesterday, after therapy, I was exhausted, spent, cried out, screamed out. All I could think about was sitting on the couch and snoozing. I went home, sat on the couch, my eyes screaming for relief, and settled a blanket over myself. I swear I could feel my mother part putting that blanket over my little girl part. I guess I’ve been dragged, kicking and screaming, to the place I didn’t want to be…..learning to be my own best mommy.


One thought on “Mother’s Day

  1. My mother didn’t do all the things to me that yours did to you. Her verbal cruelty still haunts me today, in my moments of weakness. Yet still, I understand that yearning for your Mommy, because they’re supposed to make things better when you feel yucky. Sometimes in my moments of severe anguish, I cry out and say “I want my Mommy.” But there isn’t a Mommy for me. I’d like to offer you a bit of encouragement here. I read about how you treat your own children. That’s what a Mommy is supposed to do for their babies. So when I give my boys the things I was lacking as a little girl, I find that I’m also giving those things to that little girl I used to be. Loving my boys, helps me to recover the love I didn’t have when I was a little girl. So in those moments, when you’re giving your children the things you didn’t have from your Mommy, I hope you feel like you’re being the best Mommy you can be to that little girl you once were.


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