The approach of Mothers Day fills me with a constellation of emotions that are tough to untangle. Maybe they can’t be untangled. Being a mother and having a mother seem like conflicting states rather than complementary ones.
My mom left this photo on my doorstep when I was 37. I know that because on a note she included in the manila envelope full of baby pictures, she wrote: “You piece of shit, thanks for 37 years of misery.”
Look at my innocent little self in that party dress! I wonder what the occasion was. She usually dressed me like a boy. At 21 months, according to her, she already hated me.
My mom was mentally ill but no one ever explained that to me and my sister. We knew she had mood swings and an explosive temper. We knew she was given to theatrical screaming. We knew she had an assortment of pills in her handbag that she sometimes threatened to kill herself with. But I didn’t grasp that she was crazy until the manila envelope appeared.
She was not a good mother. She was divorced early on and unequipped for the job of raising kids. Her own mother was cruel and rejecting; her passive father didn’t protect her. Her sister spent time in a mental hospital and abused her three children. It’s a mess.
But how can I hate my mother? How can I even blame her? What did she know? Now in 2020, what does anyone know about being a mother?
I know mothers who won’t vaccinate their kids or let them watch TV. I know mothers who won’t let their kids eat gluten or dairy. I know mothers who take their kids to shaman healers. I know mothers who abandoned their kids, and mothers who cling to adult children with disturbing tenacity. Everyone is just flailing around, trying to do their best.
I’m learning to strive for compassion when it comes to my mother, and for myself as well. I made so many mistakes raising my children but much more often I did okay. I made sure they knew how much I adored them. I was their advocate. They never had to be anything but themselves. They didn’t have to perform in school or anywhere else to be valued. They knew I admired them. I loved their friends and their girlfriends. I tried to always be honest with them.
I was a good enough mother. It’s a relief to know that.
My life as a mother is still the best part of who I am. My heart is broken but it’s full of love.
Those of you with crazy mothers, try to forgive them. Those of you who are crazy mothers, it’s never too late to apologize or to get some help. Don’t write shit on baby pictures if you can help it. If you can’t, it’s probably not your fault.
May we all find someone to mother and be mothered by, today and always.
I’ve a Granddaughter Sister Wolf you ought/might appreciate who ‘Thanks you’ very much.
It was a difficult time for me, not that I was ‘uninterested’ no, no not that at all. What it was was, I didn’t have a clue to ‘the how’ – you helped me and everything’s turned out pretty good. I told her some years ago she had ‘a fairy godmother’ who, although she called “Bullshit” regardless was and is aware “You” are out there.
Everyone deserves a “You.”
That ‘everyone’ doesn’t is a goddamn shame.
I Love You Sister Wolf. Always will.
I am stunned by the recognition of my own mother. Your experience sounds virtually identical to mine, only when I was 37 my mother was way too far gone to organize a hate-mail campaign. The shrieking, the vacant desolation and the late night police visits to remove my “manic depressive” mother from our home. I remember being so shocked to hear my teenage friends discussing how angry they were with their mothers for this or that. Inconceivable! What a luxury, to be able to be angry with someone!
I envy your wisdom and generosity, and you sound like an amazing mother. Happy Mother’s Day to you.
I had a crazy Mom.
Love and miss her Everyday.
JK – How lucky I am to have affected your life in a positive way!!!! The most any blogger could hope for. Thank you for sticking with me xo
Alison – Oh no, so sorry to hear. I hope you are finding some peace with this, or, you know, not actively suffering still. All my atheist blessings to you xoxo
Ck Sexton – I hear you. xoxo
As my 6th Mothers’ Day post-mothered and on the verge of motherhood myself, this is the post I didn’t know I needed. My mother, like yours, was crazy. Nobody thought to explain it to me why my mother sometimes hallucinated things that weren’t there, beat me because she had paranoid delusions, or would often scream that I was worthless, a slut, and stupid.
For me, I know I have the self-awareness to know when I’m feeling poorly, and I will do my best to explain it to my baby someday. My worst fear is becoming the woman who terrified me for most of my life. I just want to be a good mother, as most good mothers want to be.
It’s going to take me a while to recover from those comments on the older thread. My word! My mum is crazy, no doubt, but some definitely have it much worse.
Hannah – If you needed this, I’m glad to provide it. But I’m sorry about what you experienced with your mother. Your self-awareness will inform your mothering, and I believe it’s within your power to end the cycle of abuse in your family. Please keep me posted on the birth of your baby!!!!xoxo
Suspended – I know. I remember how overwhelming some of the comments were. But it shows how much people need to talk about this, instead of feeling shamed into silence. If you think you’re the only one, it’s a tougher cross to bear, right?
Please post something new soon. It’s heartbreaking to see that handwriting. Can’t imagine what you’ve been through.
And now: we need a hideous denim update. I think evidence is emerging that there’s a direct correlation between the rise of hideous denim and the decline of organized human existence.
I am a single dad raising a 11 yo girl. Your posting moved me. It brought me to tears. No one should’ve to go through what you did. But since you mentioned that your grandmother was somewhat similar to your mother I wonder if they weren’t bad moms but moms with bad genes. This could be hereditary. But girls have only a 50/50 chance of inheriting their mother’s traits. Even then, being a girl you have a spare X and this mutation may be recessive. Seems like you’re a mom. I hope you have a girl too.
Right, your time is up! It has been a month since your last post and we’re all pining away desperate to read another. Of course, you might have gone down with this ‘virus-thingie’ – although I doubt it would have the nerve to infect you! – so I am sorry if it has. Even so, your adoring public waits patiently . . .