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During my teenage years, I often felt scared and alone, yet I can’t recall ever wanting my mother’s comfort. I suspect that by elementary school, I had stopped seeking her out, but honestly, I don’t remember ever thinking, “I want my mom.”
As a child, I struggled with a stutter and was often too loud for her liking. She would frequently tell me to tone it down, saying things like, “Can you go five minutes without moving or talking?” At times, she had me sit at the kitchen table with a timer, reminding me that my presence felt like having “ten extra kids” to care for. Growing up with two quieter sisters made it clear that I was the one she favored less. I never felt understood and developed the belief that I was simply too much for her to handle.
Our conflicts escalated during high school. For years, I endured inappropriate behavior from a family member, and when I finally found the courage to speak to my mother about it, I hoped for her protection or at least some reassurance. Instead, she did nothing.
In college, as I watched my friends frequently call their moms, I wondered what that felt like. It was rare for me to want to reach out to my mother, and I found happiness in being away from her. After graduation, I was determined to secure my own place, even if it meant living with college debt. There were times when I struggled to afford basic necessities, but the thought of moving back in with my mother never crossed my mind.
My relationship with my sisters has remained close, as they maintain a connection with our mother. For me, the best approach has been to keep my distance and lower my expectations. However, the real impact of our fractured bond became evident when I became a mother myself. Holding my sweet girl for the first time, I couldn’t help but wonder how my own mother could ignore the pain I had endured.
Now, as my daughter turns seventeen, not a day goes by that I don’t think about how to nurture our relationship. I know she loves me, even during her challenging teenage moments. I want her to depend on me, as I’ve seen other women lean on their mothers in times of need, whether after giving birth or navigating tough situations.
I want my daughter to feel safe coming to me for help, whether it’s about a mistake like shoplifting or trying substances. I aim to show her that I’m here to support her, never making her feel like a burden. I’m committed to ensuring she knows she can share anything with me, without fear of judgment.
I cherish the bond I have with my daughter; it’s everything I envisioned before she was born. Over time, I’ve also come to appreciate my relationship with my mother in a different light. She has taught me the kind of mother I strive not to be. I’ve witnessed the damage that can come from a mother making her child feel burdensome, and I refuse to repeat that cycle with my daughter.
Maya Johnson is a writer who finds joy in literature, the ocean, and sharing fast food moments with her kids.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the author’s challenging relationship with her mother, marked by emotional neglect and lack of support. It emphasizes the importance of nurturing a healthy bond with her daughter, ensuring she feels loved and valued, unlike the author’s own experience. The narrative illustrates the author’s commitment to breaking the cycle of toxicity and fostering a supportive environment for her daughter.