Sometimes I See My Mother in Me, and It Frightens Me

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I distanced myself from my mother nearly two years ago. Since that day, we haven’t exchanged a single word, and she hasn’t met my youngest child. It’s a perplexing reality when the person who nurtured you in her womb and was supposed to love you unconditionally fails to fulfill that promise. That’s my mother.

There were moments when she attempted to connect, but those efforts were fleeting. I often found myself picking up the emotional debris, even as a child, which was harsh and heartbreaking. Eventually, I reached a breaking point — I could no longer afford to keep her in my life.

So, I made the difficult decision to cut ties. Unlike previous attempts, I’ve drawn a firm boundary and stuck to it. This choice serves as an act of self-preservation, not just for me but for my family, who need me to be my best self every day. Carrying decades of emotional weight simply wasn’t sustainable.

As a preteen, I vowed I would never emulate my mother. Each time she hurt or abandoned me, I promised myself I would be her complete opposite. I would be there for my children every single day, prioritizing our relationship and ensuring their needs—mentally, emotionally, and financially—were met. I would work tirelessly to provide them the best life possible and choose a partner who shared those goals.

Those were profound thoughts for a ten-year-old, but I had to mature quickly.

In many respects, I’ve honored that vow. I am blessed with three incredible kids who fill my heart with pride. Each one is a unique gift, and I can’t imagine my life without them. My partner? He’s my best friend, an exceptional father, and a constant source of love and support. I truly hit the jackpot.

However, I often find myself caught in a spiral of self-doubt. I’m my own harshest critic, often feeling guilt over the tiniest missteps, fearing my children might grow to resent me as I do my mother. The thought of being cut out of their lives, of not being able to love my future grandchildren, is suffocating. Just imagining it feels like a vice gripping my heart, and it can bring me to my knees.

Like all parents, I have my off days. I lose patience, sometimes raise my voice, and occasionally let my frustrations spill over. In those moments, I see my mother’s reflection in my actions. “Here we go again, Jenna,” I think. “You were supposed to break the cycle, yet here you are, repeating her mistakes.” The guilt overwhelms me.

Instead of accepting these moments as part of being human and promising to improve tomorrow, I dwell on them. I lose sleep, ruminating on how my actions might scar my children. I wonder if this is my karma for not simply accepting my mother’s flaws and tolerating her emotional abuse and manipulation. Perhaps this is my penance for being born to her.

It’s a twisted thought, I know. But having a mother like mine certainly leaves its mark.

I’ve worked hard to navigate my feelings about my childhood and manage my mom guilt. I realize that I will always be a work in progress. It’s become clear that perfection in parenting is a myth. I’ve learned to adjust my expectations accordingly.

While I may not achieve perfection, I strive to be a good mom. I show up every day, through the ups and downs, proving my commitment to my children. I want them to know they are my priority, that my love for them is unwavering. I want them to understand that I cherish our family unit above all else.

I want them to feel safe with me, to know they were wanted and loved. I want them to recognize that I will always be their soft place to land.

And I am doing that. I am providing them with what I never had, fulfilling my preteen promise to be unlike my mother. Yes, her shadows sometimes creep into my behavior, making me anxious and guilty, but I am determined to rise above.

I am committed to being better, to owning my mistakes, and to consistently showing up for my kids. Whether it’s easy or difficult, that’s what being a mom is all about.

Just the other day, I asked my oldest daughter, “Do you know that I love you so much?” Without hesitation, she replied, “Of course, I do, Mom.”

I think my kids will be okay.

And if you find yourself in a similar situation, with challenging parents and a desire to do better, know that your children will turn out just fine too.

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Summary

In this reflective piece, Jenna Thompson shares her journey of breaking free from a tumultuous relationship with her mother. After years of emotional turmoil, she chose to sever ties for her own well-being and the sake of her family. Despite struggling with the fear of repeating her mother’s mistakes, she remains committed to being a loving and supportive parent to her three children. Through her experiences, she emphasizes the importance of self-reflection, setting boundaries, and striving for personal growth in the quest to become a better mom.

Keyphrase: “Breaking the Cycle of Parenting”
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