Thoughts on Mother’s Day

This Mother’s Day I gave myself the freedom to not celebrate my emotionally abusive mother, and to instead celebrate my own journey becoming a mother to my two wonderful daughters; and to my inner child who has only ever received conditional, transactional and toxic love from her sole care-giver.

For many years I have taken part in the ritual of giving cards and presents to a person who has been the biggest source of pain in my life. It’s a ritual that never sat well with me, but one I continued to do because it was easier that way. Plus, if I didn’t, there would be serious consequences. Over the years shopping for a Mother’s Day card became increasingly difficult. Poems, heartfelt messages, loving photos never felt appropriate. I would seek out plain Mother’s Day themed cards, with ambiguous images and then discovered blank cards as an option; but even then some flowers would look too beautiful to give to the biggest bully in my life. So this year I am giving myself permission to not join in on the celebration of my own mother, despite my internal fears of what this will signify to her and any possible messages I may receive via other members of my family. 

I am now a mother-of-two and in learning how to be a mother, I’ve had to accept the severity of my own childhood trauma. There was a time during my late twenties that I thought I had finally moved on from my abusive past, that I had found a way to forget all the details and pain. Then I had children, and found myself triggered daily. I would have huge emotional reactions to what I know were small or mundane tasks and situations. My migraines, prolonged periods of crying and plummeting self-confidence all gave me the push I needed to try therapy. 

I wanted to be the best mother I could be and to do so I really needed to understand why I was suddenly remembering and suffering at the thought of my own childhood. Flashbacks were a regular occurrence, as were moments of intense cramps or my body stiffening at the thought of a memory from my childhood. During my early therapy sessions I finally accepted the truth of my past and no longer bought into what my abuser would constantly tell me - “it wasn’t that bad”. For the record, it was that bad and it was that bad from child to adulthood. 

In fully accepting the emotional abuse I endured at the hands of my narcissist mother and those she allowed into our family home, I was able to process and grieve for the first time all that had happened. I was able to grieve the death of my dad when I was 5-years-old, which my mother never allowed me to do. I also learnt that so many of the horrendous events that happened after leaving home are common for daughters of narcissistic mothers. My early therapy sessions were heartbreaking but so validating. In processing my past, I was slowly able to understand why and how I was being triggered now as a parent myself. 

In the last few years I’ve reflected on the impact a narcissistic mother has had on me. I’ve come to understand why I experience such low self esteem and self doubt. Why I've been such a people-pleaser, to the point that it caused me physical and emotional harm. I’ve come to realise the gravity and relentlessness of her negative messages, aka the lies she told me about myself and how she denied me of the truth when it comes to the details of painful events. I understand just how often I was gaslighted and I now understand all the tools and tactics she used to manipulate me and play the victim. I understand how my White mother tried to deny and hide my Blackness, too. 

While I'm so grateful to have such clarity, all these truths leave behind an unfixable heartache. The constant lying and berating cuts deep and dealing with the patterns of behaviour my mum would display is so draining. Then there’s the harrowing thought that my own mother will never love me unconditionally and the burning question, does she love me at all? 

How do I have a relationship with someone who time and time again reveals their true colours and continues in their toxic behaviour? How do I celebrate ‘Nanny’ when she makes my children cry and starts to treat them in the same way she treated me - as commodities and extensions of herself who are apparently available to be controlled and criticised during the short time frame she makes an effort to see them. 

For me, it’s all led to one answer - no contact. At this particular moment I have no contact with my narcissistic mother. It’s been 6 months. It’s not been easy but I think of the expression “choose your hard”. It’s far harder having a life with her in it, than a life without her. 

So my Mother’s Day gift this year is to celebrate all the learning and growth I’ve made as a parent. A parent to my girls, reparenting myself and a parent to my inner child. This Mother’s Day I choose to be present with my girls and enjoy the day as much as I feel possible. I hope I am able to, without the overwhelming sadness of my relationship with my mum overshadow the day. 

A huge thank you to my daughters who are always so kind and patient with me. Thank you for accepting my apologies and allowing me to try better next time; and happy Mother’s Day to all daughters suffering at the hands of narcissistic mothers.