Thursday, June 14, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Even though I wrote this May 18th, I still wanted to post it because it was an honest expression of emotion that I typically deal with every year around this particular holiday. May 18th, 2012 Feeling just a tad blue lately and I know exactly why. It’s the annual time of year that seems to affect my mood level even though I try really hard for it not to. It’s that hole inside that makes its presence known every year about this time. Mother’s day. I try to ignore it and put the feelings on the back burner but they never stay there for long. Memories, thoughts and emotions creep in even though I try to busy myself to keep them at bay. Still they come. I am taken back to the past and even though I am very content and happy in my life today, there is still a deep sadness that rises to the surface. I wonder what it would have been like for me to have a mother. I envy people that celebrate Mother’s day with their mother. I would love to honor my mother for always being there for me and loving me unconditionally. To honor her for all the sacrifices she made to give her child the best possible life she could. But I can’t do that. I can’t do that because that is not who my mother was or who she will ever be. I feel cheated that I never got to experience that deep bond between a mother and her child. I am no longer angry… I used to be, however those feelings have slowly dissipated. I am long past that at this point in my life, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling sad about the lack of something I needed so much. It’s a deep wound. It’s something that goes to the very center of my core and even as I write I can feel the tears welling up and the catch in my throat. I don’t know if this open wound will ever truly go away. As much as I have tried throughout my life to fill that empty void and hole inside of me, I have never been successful. I don’t think it can be filled. I am taken back to when I was a small child and how much I desperately wanted a mother so much so that I tried many times replacing her with a substitute mother figure. That pattern has repeated throughout my life, always searching for a mother to bond with. As much as I want that mother figure in my life, I have found that nobody can replace or fill that role. It is what it is. I have learned to mother and nurture myself in many ways and yet it is still not the same. It never takes away that gaping hole, that feeling of abandonment. It never takes away the loss of what I have always yearned for. It never fills that emptiness inside. There are many layers of the pain inside. First there is the layer of abandonment and it always leaves me with questions to which there are no answers. Why would a mother choose to leave her six month old baby? How can that ever be justified? Was there something wrong with me that she just didn’t want to take care of me anymore? I know deep inside it never had anything to do with me but rather it was her own choices she made, but still it is a question that needs an answer. I as a woman, cannot possibly fathom just taking off and leaving my child behind, my own flesh and blood, and just walking away. There is no reasoning that could ever justify that to me. Not only did she do it once with me, but she made that same choice again when she left my half-brother behind in her 2nd marriage in the same manner she abandoned me. Secondly, there is the layer of pain that she did not protect me. A mother is supposed to protect her children and she didn’t. A mother is supposed to be there for her child in times of need and she wasn’t. She wasn’t there for any of the milestones in my life. She wasn’t there for my first days of school, she wasn’t there for my birthdays, or the many holidays. She wasn’t there to teach me and show me things that mothers typically do for their children. She wasn’t there to love me unconditionally. In fact I never felt love from her at all. It was a strained and uncomfortable relationship and affection was virtually non-existent. Even when there were attempts at affection, it seemed forced and not genuine. Then there’s the third layer of pain… her behavior. Whereas the affection was withheld from me, there was plenty to go around to the male species of the world. Overtly so. It was very painful to see her so overtly sexual with men. Not only because it was very uncomfortable for any child to witness that from a parent, but because on a deeper level I could not understand how she could behave in that manner. Where was the respect and the decency? It was deeply embarrassing for me to witness and it was difficult for me to comprehend her actions and behaviors with what I was experiencing. I was being harmed and sexually abused, something I wanted no part of nor should a child ever have to experience that, while my mother seemed to revel engaging in sexual behaviors. She was proud of using her body as a dancer for men, she craved the sexual nature of attracting men for attention. I wanted no part of that in any shape way or form and it was so conflicting for me to reconcile those feelings and emotions of witnessing that through the eyes of a child. As an adult I have a better understanding that my mother must have felt her value and her worth by displaying those types of behaviors. She was seeking love and acceptance herself, although be it in an unhealthy way… however it does not take the pain away that I felt as a child about the situation. I have arrived at the conclusion that my mother did not have the skills or the basic knowledge of how to be a real mother to me. Some women are natural born nurturers. My mother was not. I realize now that my mother had her own issues and insecurities and probably had abuse in her life too. Does that negate her responsibility to me her child? No it doesn’t. Long ago I asked myself an important question. I asked myself if I met this woman as a stranger, would she be somebody I would be friends with or have in my life? The answer was no. So why did I keep hanging onto the hope that one day she would miraculously be the mother I always wanted and needed? The answer was she wouldn’t ever be that person for me, so I had to let go of that dream. It’s been difficult. I was okay with severing the relationship, what little there actually was. Although I am content with that decision for my own life, it still does not stop the sadness that creeps in every year on this celebrated Spring day. I have to be okay with that… so I embrace my sadness for what it is and I pick myself up and move forward with courage and dignity.