“I just hope that one day they think of me the way I think of my mom.” The words just sat there as I stared. I reread that Facebook status update three times. And then it hit me.
Oh dear Lord, please don’t let my kids one day think of me the way I think of my mom.
My mother is a narcissist. Everything, literally every thing, revolves around her. When I first found I was pregnant and due at the end of January, her first response was, “I don’t know if I can be there; the weather may be bad.” When I broke up with a boyfriend in high school, she was mad that I didn’t run that decision by her. She didn’t speak to me for a week.
My mother is fueled by bitterness and jealousy. I have never heard her tell a single person that she was happy for them. Frankly, I have never heard her tell me that.
We were never close. I was always made to feel inferior to my older sibling. I was always the “lucky one.” If I got a job, it was because I was lucky. If I made a good grade, I got lucky. Finding my husband, luck. I have never deserved anything in my life, in her eyes at least. Growing up in her house, you did everything on her terms, on her timeline. If you didn’t, you were punished by silence. Well, to be honest, you would obviously get screamed at for a short period of time, followed by days, even weeks of complete silence.
The entire house had to be silent during these times, even if she wasn’t mad at me, but instead a sibling or my father. The rest of us tiptoed as she sulked in her room as a victim, because whatever you did, or didn’t do, was to hurt her. There was no other explanation in her mind. From her point of view, I never forgot to do a chore; I wanted her to do it instead, therefore I was being mean to her.
I always put up more of a fight than my other siblings. I talked back, mainly because I wanted answers. It never made sense to me, and honestly is still doesn’t make sense to me 20 years later. I was always advised by my older sibling to just sit back and take it, don’t make her more angry. But lucky for my mom, I am 50% her DNA. When I finally moved out for college, I was able to push her away. It would come down to my dad calling to tell me to call her. I never wanted to call her.
She had (and still has) the ability to make me cry on even the happiest days. Who wants that?
I changed my major to something she didn’t understand and instead of asking questions to find out what it meant, she said, “Well, what am I going to tell people!?” My older sibling is a career person and this career had been carefully planned since middle school. Me? I was always a go-with-the-flow, whatever kind of kid. I didn’t have big enough dreams; I just wanted to be happy. That obviously wasn’t good enough for my mom’s social appearance.
I dreaded spending time with her. I still do. My stomach still gets knotted if I see her name pop up on my phone as a call or text. It’s never going to end well and I know that. Anxiety runs wild, all because of her.
When I found out I was pregnant, all I dreamed for was a little baby girl. I wanted a do-over. I wanted to be the mom that I always wanted, that I still long for. The mom I can call with bad news, good news, or no news at all. The mom I long to visit and spend time with. The mom that I want to help raise my kids, to make memories with my kids. The mom that I can walk into the card aisle for Mother’s Day and pick literally any of them because I feel all those mushy, lovey feelings.
I have grieved the absence of that relationship. I still grieve. I would love for her to call me just to see what I am doing, how I am doing and genuinely care. I would love to take family vacations with her and have the best time. But she won’t and we can’t.
My mom is nothing but another person to me. I don’t hold those close ties with her. I am sad for her and I am sad for me. But, I have been given the chance to be that mom — the mom I always wanted — to my daughter. You can bet I won’t mess this up.
Loved this entry. I believe childhood teaches us both sides: the parent we WANT to be and the parent we DON’T WANT to be. I have a similar relationship with my mom and often wonder how her memories of my childhood are so very different from mine. Thanks for the perspective.
Thank you for sharing this tough subject. Instead of dealing with this exact situation with my own mom, my husband and his siblings have dealt with this all their lives with their mother. I have gotten a good piece of it too with my MIL. I’ve learned that you cannot change anyone, that is something that has to come within them. I would only hope that one day they can reflect back and see with their own eyes what they have done to others. But do not allow others behavior to make you feel a certain way. They for whatever reason are dealing with their own issues that have nothing to do with us personally. Prayers girl!
Thank you for this. I have no relationship with my mother anymore and havent spoken to her in over 4 years. I am now pregnant with a baby girl (I have a 12 year old son) and there are times I am so scared. What if the cycle continues. What if I am to her what my mom was to me and her mom was to her? I just want to be different with her. I feel the same mourning, wishing I had a relationship like I see a lot of my friends with their moms. I wish we could meet up for coffee and talk about kids, the weather, anything.
Although I wouldn’t classify my mother as a narcissist, I would call her extremely self-centered. She’s totally disinterested in her grand-children. I had a wonderful mother in law. Unfortunately, she passed away a few years ago. My kids don’t really have a grandmother now.
I felt like I could have written this! I never had a close relationship with my mom and hoped for a “do-over” when I had a daughter. Picking out Mother’s Day cards is still hard, even though my relationship with my aging mother has gottten better. Unfortunately having a strong-willed daughter has turned out to be more of a challenge than I realized. It is a day to day, hour by hour, sometimes minute by minute to consciously choose my words and actions. I try my darndest though so one day she won’t have trouble picking put a card me when she is older!