To say I have complicated feelings about my mom would be an understatement. Growing up, my mother’s unpredictable mood swings made our home life tumultuous. It was only later that I learned her struggles with alcoholism contributed to this instability. Despite a few attempts at therapy, she resisted any real change, often claiming that the therapists found nothing wrong with her—which is not how therapy works. My childhood was largely shaped by a woman who made poor decisions and manipulated situations to portray herself as a perpetual victim.
As I matured, I realized that my mother’s drinking habit was far more serious than I had acknowledged in my youth. After I married and had children, I witnessed her downward spiral firsthand. I saw her health deteriorate while she continued to deny her problems, even when they nearly cost her life.
Years ago, I made the difficult decision to distance myself from my mom. This was not only the hardest choice I’ve ever made but also the healthiest one for me and my family. In my close-knit Greek family, no one had ever taken such a step, making me the first to challenge the generational patterns that had ensnared us. Through therapy, I uncovered troubling memories that I had once dismissed as normal. While my mom did provide basic needs like food and shelter, she never offered the emotional support or love that children need. Her mental and emotional neglect left lasting scars.
Now, I find myself in a complex relationship with the idea of my mother. We only communicate during medical emergencies on her part, and I often grieve the mother I wish I had—the one who could have embraced, cherished, and valued me. I yearn for the kind of parental support that my husband’s family so effortlessly provides. I am determined to be that nurturing presence for my children, someone they can rely on at any hour, without fear of being dismissed or overshadowed.
A few years back, before I distanced myself from her, I experienced a profound loss when a close friend passed away. Late that night, I shared my grief on social media. I received a call from my mom shortly after, which I ignored. When my dad called, slurring his words, I could hear my mom’s emotional outburst in the background, making my loss about her instead of me. My children will never experience this kind of selfishness from me or my husband; they will know they can trust and depend on me.
I am not sure if the longing for a mother who never was will ever fade completely. It brings sadness, but I strive to rise above that feeling. I remind myself that I am breaking a cycle that has persisted through generations. While I am far from perfect, I am committed to being better than what I inherited. I am becoming the mother I always needed.
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- How to heal from toxic family relationships
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In summary, I have chosen to navigate life without my mother, striving each day to be the kind of parent I wished I had. My journey of self-discovery and commitment to breaking harmful cycles shapes the mother I am becoming.
Keyphrase: Motherhood after toxic relationships
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