mommy issues

some rambling thoughts

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I am very hard on my mom. I have written extensively about my relationship with her and the things I experienced as a child and to a lesser extent, as an adult, that have made it difficult for me to let go of my anger at her. I have been working on this essay on and off for weeks, trying to reach a grand conclusion and sense of peace. A universal truth about being a daughter. I don’t have earth shattering knowledge but I have a collection of thoughts on my own experience with my mother and on my knowledge of mother child relationships generally.

I started reflecting while binge listening to Celebrity Memoir Book Club where the hosts, Claire and Ashley, often mention how much anger memoirists have toward their mothers and how quickly they forgive their fathers.

I am much easier on my dad than on my mom. And I feel a lot of guilt about that. It was their duty- equally- to raise me and keep me safe, warm, fed, and on a positive life path. The jury is still out, of course, but it seems like I ended up okay despite my upbringing. So why am I still so mad at my mom? Why can I let go of my anger at my father even if he was just as damaging?

I think there are two parts to it. The societal part and then personal part. Societally, mothers are expected to be primary caregivers, to protect their children and put them first. They are expected to nurture, love, handle doctors and schooling and activities. My mother was a stay at home mom through most of my childhood and the expectation that she would be the primary parent and my dad would be the primary provider was clear to me as a child. Failing to provide does not feel as personal, at least to me, as failing to love the way I needed to be loved. I think that many of us harbor more anger at our mothers because they did not do a perfect- or even good- job at the job society gave them and that they took.

The societal expectations on mothers are unfair, they were more unfair when I grew up. They are also, to a lesser extent, up to the family to decide. And in many families, consciously or not agree that parenting should fall primarily on the mother. That was the case in my family. Children and teenagers and most adults do not have a strong enough understanding of how deeply unfair the differing parenting expectations are. Factually, I know I should be just as angry at my dad for the neglect. Realistically, I know that my family decided (probably and largely because of how American society functions) that at the end of the day, it was my moms job and my moms responsibility. Even if intellectually I know I should be easier on her- she had five children, little outside fulfillment, an alcoholic husband, no career to fall back on- it’s very difficult for me to separate the unfair expectations from the fact that she took them on anyway. I am working on it but it’s hard.

Personally, my parents have reacted very differently to our confrontations in adulthood. My dad reads these essays. While he and I are not in contact, he often texts my sister and is generally complimentary, supportive, and regretful about the times I bring him up. Maybe that is because I am easier on him. But maybe it’s because he’s trying to reflect and grow. I’ve done a lot of reflecting and growing and apologizing this year. I am very open to forgiving.

But I expect people to reflect, I expect growth. And every conversation I have had with my mom, I do not feel she is listening. She argues with my feelings, my side of the story, my experience. And she says that her memories of what has happened between us are factual. I do not think I remember everything perfectly but I need her to admit that she does not either. And she cannot do that. From where I sit, she is not trying to grow, not trying to learn, not trying to listen. She is trying to bulldoze and explain away her flaws. And maybe she’s doing that because the expectations were too great and she can’t find the words to express how she feels. But maybe she’s doing it because she cannot see anything but herself. I am sure she has her reasons for that, I have also had my moments where I can see only myself, my needs, my point of view. But I try to step back, I try to learn, I try to change, listen and grow. Especially for the people I love, especially for the people I need in my life. Why can’t my mom? Why can’t she find the effort that is love, even for me? There is only so much energy I can put into wondering and only so much I can forgive and justify any expression of her understanding and remorse. I love my mom but I cannot let it go. The anger still simmers. I will help her when she starts to help herself but not before.

But here it is, an essay justifying- rather than deeply examining- me directing the bulk of my anger at my mother rather than my father. I don’t know what to think about that. I would love to know how it makes you feel.

With love always,

Hannah