My Mom Is A Real-Life Devil, But I Still Love Her
Some moms incarnate as Cruella De Ville.
Mother’s Day is around the corner — an annual reminder the right words to describe the relationship I have with my mom are not in a Hallmark card.
For most of my youth, a gentle, compassionate, big-hearted mother in movies or in real life gave me a tight feeling in my chest.
I wanted to experience love like that.
My mom says she loves me but I’ve felt the emptiness in her words since childhood.
I still can’t share this information with her at 29, or I get the silent treatment. The experience of a mother’s unconditional love is foreign to me.
I was my parent’s first child of five and quickly learned we wouldn’t be taking family photos.
I endured the brunt of my mom’s anger, pain, and stress from my parent’s challenging relationship and eventual divorce.
I was the quintessential parentified child by age 8.
I spent most of my time helping my mom take care of my siblings because she raised us alone in poverty.
I sensed my mom longed to complete her vision of a beautifully decorated home and live a life like the families in the movies, but her efforts couldn’t hide the fact she was never happy no matter what she did and her kids were always hungry.
I began voicing what my siblings and I were experiencing (if you’re the oldest child you feel me) and helplessly took the bullets of rage my mom projected on me without a bulletproof vest — it was brutal.
I made it my responsibility to shield my siblings the best I could.
Still, I went out of my way to remind my mom of her beauty, true self, and that life was still worth living with or without a big house with a white picket fence and the perfect spouse.
I desperately didn’t want to lose her — what parent would I have?
My parent’s divorce was finalized when I was 13.
One thing was clear — nothing I did or said was ever good enough.
During my teenage years, I thought something was seriously wrong with me.
I became suicidal, depressed, and developed deep self-hate.
I successfully hid my inner turmoil from everyone.
Music helped put my emotions into words and helped me feel happier.
Naturally, I found myself craving various relationships with maternal-type women and always got what I was seeking.
Countless women ushered me into their hearts — various teachers, mentors, friends’ moms, co-workers, and even leadership at work.
They saw me as intelligent, capable, beautiful, and not someone to constantly criticize, manipulate, and fix.
Younger versions of me still had deep fears to sort out and distrusted their motives.
I eventually ran away from all these relationships because I feared their potential rejection and abandonment — the main story running through my mind.
I never wanted a perfect mom.
I just wanted a mom who could own her humanity, embrace the messiness of life without feeling the need to hide, and come clean about her life story with the children who choose to love her unconditionally.
I spent most of my 20s in deep cycles of depression I didn’t have words to express.
With the internal war raging within, I still managed to excel academically and enjoy my life, but this was just pure grace.
I developed perfectionist tendencies to ensure I wouldn’t “fail” and put a brutal amount of pressure on myself in all areas of my adult life to 100% “make it.”
I was intrinsically motivated to secure some sort of success to never return to my mom’s house — it was the only fire I ever needed.
It worked.
I look good on paper and have top skills deemed valuable in the market today.
I thought my achievements would help my mom see me as valuable — maybe she sincerely thought I was an incompetent child — surely she would love me now!
Nope.
I’ve forgiven my mom, but she has embraced the same bitterness, anger, and judgmental attitudes she had decades ago.
She’s expressed she’s not interested in self-healing concepts or therapy at this time in her life.
I can’t force her to acknowledge the trauma both herself and her children endured and how it has changed each of our lives.
Last year a therapist revealed I’d developed C-PTSD from being unloved as a child.
I was shocked and felt seen — someone had confirmed the reality I was living in. She mentioned that people with similar stories don’t fare well as adults and that I functioned well above the statistics.
I never felt like I was doing well, I just looked that way.
Again, pure grace.
This made me look at my story in a completely new way.
I realized I had been telling a pretty sad story up until that point in my life and decided to embrace a new reality.
As I continued going through cycles of feeling and letting go of repressed anger, sadness, disappointment, and frustration, my inner processing brought me to one insight — I was still hoping for a different version of my mom.
I was still hoping she’d acknowledge that her reality (and the realities of my siblings she uses for emotional support) aren’t the only realities in our family.
I was still hoping she’d understand continuing to make excuses for her destructive behaviors (she says she’s been aware of for decades) isn’t okay.
Open, honest communication about issues with my mom is a no go.
She’s not open to feedback unless you want to parrot how much she’s loved as a mom and grandmother.
Otherwise, go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
I was hoping her life experiences would help her see a pattern of constantly pushing people away.
“Despite how open, peaceful, and loving you attempt to be, people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves.” ~Matt Kahn
I don’t blame her.
We’re all on Earth evolving together.
She’s a woman of strong Christian faith and says Jesus already fought and won all her battles.
Only time will tell.
Thank you Jesus.
My mom mostly plays the devil character in the lives of others but when I dig a little deeper I know her true self isn’t a devil — it’s just a character she’s playing after all.
I’ve found the most loving thing I can do is fully accept her for who she is.
Who I think she should be is irrelevant.
Our traumas and pain can give us many gifts.
Once the gifts are unlocked we begin to ask new questions.
Some of mine have been — What do I desire my attitude and perspective to be?
What do I need to see that I haven’t allowed myself to see before?
What am I willing to know about myself now?
Here are some of my answers:
★ I have deep compassion for my mom’s reality and the experiences that have shaped her.
★ I still love my mom unconditionally but I will not perform for her love anymore.
★ I choose not to hate my mom.
★ I’m willing to view our challenging relationship more holistically — for the both of us.
★ I choose to see my mom as an equal human being that is always doing the best she can with what she has.
She’s only ever done the best she could — I’ve witnessed this.
This doesn’t mean I have to tolerate anything less than respect from her.
★ I choose not to take any of her negative behaviors toward me personally anymore — our relationship is so much bigger than the two of us.
Our lives will continue to play out and I’m willing to learn the various lessons needed on my end.
★ My mom taught me the lesson of open-heartedness by showing me the opposite.
★ I’ve learned I have the capacity for unconditional love.
★ I’ve learned I can return non-love with love.
★ I’ve learned I can fully live for myself without parental approval.
★ I’m willing to stay open to love and life even without the experience of unconditional parental love.
★ I’ve learned I have diamonds of wisdom sealed within my heart.
★ I’ve learned I have an unshakable strength within despite my mom’s constant rejection and abandonment.
★ I know I don’t have to change myself for anyone’s love and approval — family or not.
My True Self — Never Tarnished, Always Open
Through my relationship with my mom, I’ve learned my true self is more open to life than I ever thought possible.
I learned this about myself through witnessing my mom’s closed-off ways of living and how often she still feels the need to constantly shield her heart.
I went through the fires of hell as an open-hearted child and transfigured into a dragonfly. I’ve been in touch with resiliency my whole life.
I’m open to fully experiencing our relationship as it is and can only love my mom the best I can.
If that means from a distance or with very little contact, so be it.
I surrender all fighting.
I wouldn’t be who I am today without my mom. All of her influences — both positive and negative have undeniably shaped my life. I’m still grateful because this is the one life I was given to learn to love.
I will continue learning how.
Those Hallmark cards for Mother’s Day are beautiful.
Will I ever pick one up?
I’m willing to not know until I do.
