I also learned that despite my being
honest with my son about everything, my mother has him confused about some
things I’ve told him. He came home one day and asked why he was caught in the
middle between the two of us. I took him to lunch and tried to explain.
Apparently I’d already told him the main stories of why I feel the way I do
about my mother. She denies them and now he doesn’t know who to trust. I also
told him that if I had any other choice about how to deal with my mother that
wouldn’t put him in the middle of things, I would do so. Unfortunately,
diplomatic tactics don’t work with my mother and now she’s managed to undermine
the level of honesty I tried to build with my son.
I finally came to the conclusion that
at some level, I hate and resent my mother. Yes, hate and resent. I never
thought I would say that about anyone other than her second husband, Don, but
it’s true. I hate her and I resent the way she’s treated me over the years. I
know part of her behavior stems from jealousy. I know it would be very hard to
not be jealous of any woman or child, which her husband had chosen over her
sexually as Don did me. I am also sure some of her jealousy stems from my
physical build.
When I was about 14 or 15, she
allowed me to try on her prom dress. It fit beautifully until we tried to zip
it around my chest. The zipper wouldn’t go more than a couple of inches past my
waist. I was simply better developed at that age than she had been at 18.
However, this doesn’t stop the hurt and anger I feel. Her jealousy is her
problem to deal with and taking it out on me was not right.
I’ve also come to realize that my
mother is a self-centered, judgmental, legalistic, controlling hypocrite. It’s
been hard to face that, but it helps me to deal with her the way I need as the
need arises.
I say judgmental because one day long
before I got pregnant, she told me to be careful about my walk with God. That
if I were lukewarm, He would “spew me out of His mouth.” This came out of
nowhere and I was stunned. Not only that, but what I didn’t tell her was that
as far my relationship with God was concerned, I was cold. I believed in Him at
that time, but that was about it.
Looking back on that later, I
realized that there was an attitude of judgment coming from her. To this day, I
have no idea why she said what she did to me then.
I have come to a place emotionally
where I don’t really care if the breach between mother and I becomes healed.
The damage she has done is so great; we might as well be on opposite sides of
the Grand Canyon with no way to communicate. I’ve prayed that God would heal
that area of my heart and help me forgive her, even if for some reason beyond
my control, the breach between us cannot be healed.
Facing how I truly feel about my mother has been very difficult for me. However, it has also been
very liberating. I’ve come to a better understanding of my emotions and myself as I’ve faced how I
feel about her. Not only that, I’ve come to understand why I never seem to have any energy
regardless of how much or how little sleep I get. It’s because all my life people like my mother and
her second husband and the majority of the men I dated were big emotional energy vacuums sucking
up all my energy and giving little or nothing back to replace what they took. Eventually that kind of
drain leaves you with nothing for yourself or anyone else.
As I’ve healed I’ve learned more about just how toxic to me the relationship with my mother has
been. For years I thought being abandoned by my biological father and abused by the first stepfather
I ever had and the relationships with men were what did the majority of the damage. I have finally
come to the realization that in reality, the worst part of the damage that was done to me was done by
my own mother. She said it all when she told me that she had me so that “she would have at least one
person in her life who loved her unconditionally.”
Then I read an article online titled, “…When Parents Make Their Children Partners…” by Bo
Budinksy. As I read the article, which someone had posted into a Facebook group I belong to, it was
like seeing my relationship with my mother as it really is. I’m supposed to be her emotional support
system and when I don’t do what she expects in that regard she gets angry and tries to rein me in. It
wasn’t until I started getting angry at her and fighting back that she backed off. Even then we had
several loud/yelling disagreements before she finally started showing me the respect I deserve and
quit trying to run my life. Unfortunately there are still times when she’ll try something as I
mentioned above, such as she did when her husband died.
The more I think about the way she treated me growing up and the way she attempts to treat me
now, the more I realize that she does not respect my boundaries unless I put up a no holds barred
fight and force her to respect them. I see a certain irony in all this as she once recommended to me a
book titled, “Boundaries” by Henry Cloud and John Townsend. It’s about what boundaries are and
how to set them for yourself. It was informative and helpful. I’m also sure that she read it, but she
doesn’t apply those ideas to me unless I force her to do so by being unwilling to let her continually
violate mine.
The last time I had contact with her was because her sister, my aunt and uncle were going to be in
town for a rare visit. I figured I could handle being around her for one evening as my aunt, her
husband, my brother and his wife would all be there. As it turned out, my brother and his wife
couldn’t make it as they had other plans for that same night made months in advance.
Everything went fine at dinner that night. My aunt and uncle did most of the talking about
Grandmother’s recent death and our hopes that the body of my great uncle who flew rescue in WWII
would finally be brought home. There were a few minutes when we were left alone at the table while
my aunt and uncle were making transportation arrangements for themselves as they didn’t have a
rental car this trip. Mother turned to me and said, “You know I always did love you. I know I made
some mistakes in the past, but I can’t change the past. The past is the past.”
I looked at her without saying anything. I just thought, “The past is the past? So that’s it? I’m just
supposed to let you off the hook without you giving me a real apology or taking any responsibility
for everything you’ve done?! Yeah, right.”
Since that night, I’ve had no contact with her and I have no desire to do so. I simply can’t go on
being around someone who refuses to take personal responsibility for their actions.
