I Expected More…
Mother’s Day is a tough one for me. My mom died a couple of years ago but that’s not why it’s so tough.
She and I had a tumultuous relationship and it was difficult for me to be her daughter. You see, she would say things to me casually and nonchalantly that would infuriate me and then not understand why I was upset. Things like “don’t get your hopes up” and “your expectations are too high”. Anyone who knows me, even for a short time, knows that my hopes are ALWAYS up and my expectations are ALWAYS high. 2 of my greatest characteristics… if you ask me.
I know instantly when I say something that upsets my children (although it is something I try not to do). I know because I know my children. I think my resentment comes from her not knowing me well enough to know what types of things were upsetting to me.
It’s hard to write this post and I hope my sister doesn’t read it. (Her experience with our mother was much different than mine, or maybe I just expected more) It’s amazing what comes out when you start typing. I EXPECTED MORE… that’s it. That’s all it is.
I expected her to give it all, be it all, want it all, love it all! I expected her to lavish me in love. I expected her to be passionate and enthusiastic about my life, my stories, my world. I expected her to love me with home cooked food, special tokens/gifts and her time. I expected her total commitment to her grandchildren, holiday meals together and the unity of her family. I expected her to be The Matriarch of our family.
Think I was too hard on her? Think my expectations were too great?
My mother gave up. She quit. I watched her deteriorate and nothing has ever upset me as much. I earn my living empowering women. I was put on this Earth to empower my daughters with knowledge, self awareness, love of life, energy, excitement, enthusiasm, my own will to live and succeed, etc. Most women who cross my path see these things, acknowledge them and sometimes even feel empowered themselves by it. How could I have not been able to empower my own mother…
We shared her body. She grew a placenta to support me. At one time, we were one… When her life ended, I felt completely disconnected from her. While others mourned her loss, I mourned the loss of the opportunity to ever get what I “needed” from her. I’m angry, I’m actually, pissed. My heart is broken, I’m mad and today is my birthday. A day where I EXPECT to feel close to the woman who gave birth to me. I don’t.
Instead, I think about MY life, MY husband, MY daughters, MY friends, MY family, MY business partners, MY staff, MY world… and I am grateful. I am satisfied and I am fulfilled.
I work, sometimes daily to “recover” from not having my emotional needs met by my mother, by meeting the emotional needs of my daughters and that helps me. I talk to my husband about these feelings and I let him support me when I need it.
On a more positive note… I am strong. My mother’s actions and her inability to act, helped make me strong. I know who I am and I am proud of who I have become. My hopes are up, my expectations are high and I am The Matriarch of my family, a title that that I find particularly empowering.