Right now, my daughter is just two years old, and in her eyes, I am her entire universe. As a stay-at-home mom, we spend every waking moment together. Although she’s gradually overcoming her separation anxiety, there are still moments when I have to literally peel her off my legs to leave her with her father or a sitter. Just five minutes after I go, she’s usually fine, but the last image I have before heading out—whether it’s to run errands or enjoy a night out—is of her sobbing on the floor, calling for “Mama.”
Everyone affectionately tells me, “She’s a Mama’s girl.” I nod in agreement as she curls up against me, burying her face in my chest. But amidst this loving connection, I can’t help but worry. What if we don’t get along as she grows older? I’m not talking about the typical squabbles that many mothers and daughters face; I fear we might end up feeling like strangers.
I worry that she might not trust me, or that I might unintentionally manipulate her emotions. I fear she won’t feel comfortable sharing her triumphs or struggles with me. I dread the thought of not being her shoulder to cry on, or the person she turns to celebrate life’s big moments—or even the little ones. These worries stem from my own complicated relationship with my mother.
I don’t have a close bond with her. I watch with envy as other women share glowing stories about their mothers being their best friends, joyfully reminiscing about shopping trips and spa days together. I’ve had to grieve the absence of that kind of relationship with my own mother, a process that feels ongoing and challenging.
Interestingly, I never knew my grandmother; she passed away two years before I was born. My mother has often remarked that I remind her of her own mother, which perhaps explains some of their tension. As a child, I would imagine how different my life might have been if my grandmother had survived. I envisioned her as my ally, my support system during the tumultuous times of my childhood.
I chose to honor my grandmother by giving my daughter her name. For now, she is firmly in the “Mama’s girl” phase, and while I worry that could change, I also hold onto hope. Hope that I can be the kind of mother for her that my own mother was not for me.
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In summary, my journey as a mother is filled with both love and apprehension. As I strive to be the mother I always wished for, I hope to foster a strong, trusting relationship with my daughter that defies the past.
Keyphrase: Mother-Daughter Relationship
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