Tell Me About Your Mom!

In my book (available for pre-order), I go deep on why group therapy and support groups for people who have messy relationships with their parents are the best. Huge fan.

The recap: These groups are full of people sharing stories that probably sound a lot like yours (my personal favorites are the virtual groups held at Calling Home, a platform created by therapist Whitney Goodman, LMFT). When you hear someone speaking your truth, it hits differently than when your friends or a therapist tells you that you’re not alone.

No matter what phase of mom relationship rehab you’re in, listening to others who’ve been in your shoes and sharing your story weakens stigma. When you feel less bad about feeling bad, it’s easier to work through your shit. Community, amirite?!

With that in mind, I’m kicking off a lil series in this newsletter called YOUR MOM. Here, we’ll dig into someone’s maternal storyline and how they’re healing** from it. I can’t wait to hear from you! If you want to share your story, fill out this form.

As an Aries moon and the owner of this here Substack, I’ll go first.

What are some of your biggest struggles with your mom?

I think the biggest thing is that we have different definitions of what a good relationship looks like. My mom (who I sometimes refer to as “Foxy” for levity and to minimize the emotional impact of her behavior) wants to reach me on demand and gather highlights from my life that she can share with friends and random strangers. I want an emotional connection and support that I can depend on. I’m not willing to endure a surface-level relationship where she gets everything she wants and I barely get a follow-up question.

When I was 8 or 9, I asked my mom why she didn’t “baby me” anymore. I was basically asking her why she didn’t show affection the way I saw my friends’ moms do it (see: snuggles and unsolicited back scratches).

My mom isn’t really down for that, though. Some context: Foxy said “I love you” and never rejected a hug, that’s true. But if I didn’t request the extra credit kind of care, it wasn’t happening. Her response to my question was, “You want me to treat you like a baby?”

Honestly, sick burn, bruh.

As I got older, I started to notice that my mom wasn’t very interested in me or my feelings. In my 20s, most of our phone calls consisted of her walking me through the details of her day. I’d have about five minutes to say that work was busy and my boyfriend is doing fine.

This all was manageable until I started therapy and learned that my social anxiety was, in part, rooted in my relationship with my mom. The cliche exists for a reason, folks.

How would you describe your relationship with your mom at its worst point so far?

At the worst point in my relationship with my mom, I felt consumed by thoughts about her. I worried about when she’d call me. If I didn’t answer, I’d stress about what passive-aggressive text she’d send to shame me for not calling her back. I ruminated about what she’d say to the rest of my family and what they’d report back to me. I could hear her voice in my head all the time.

I also felt shitty that I had a shitty relationship with my mom. I thought, sincerely, I was the only one I knew whose mother treated them this way, and no one could understand. I felt physically dirty for classifying this dynamic as “dysfunctional”.

But all of that didn’t really start up until I was in therapy, unpacking all of the feelings I’d been suppressing for decades. Super fun work.

I tried to get my mom to understand the ways she had hurt my feelings in the past and the ways I felt like our relationship was broken, but it didn’t go that well.

The first time I told her that it seemed like she didn’t give a shit about me, my feelings, or spending time with me, she said that she was sorry I was upset. She didn’t mean to make me feel this bad. I sensed she didn’t get it. She changed the subject, and I let her.

The second time didn’t go well either. The third time, via email, still didn’t hit.

This all was manageable until I started therapy and learned that my social anxiety was, in part, rooted in my relationship with my mom. The cliche exists for a reason, folks.

How does your relationship with your mom impact your life outside of the time you spend with them?

Now that I’m low-contact, it’s less of a thing. But back when I was in the thick of it, I had really intense social anxiety that made doing some parts of my job very challenging. Presenting your ideas to a conference room full of coworkers when you can’t breathe or read is not ideal.

It took me a long time to realize I was grieving a relationship I wished I had with my mom. That process comes with a ton of big feelings, like disappointment, hope, sadness, anxiety, depression, insecurity, and loneliness (to name a few lol). I tried to avoid those emotions as much as possible, but they always found a way to come out. Cut to their surprise guest appearance at my bachelorette party (a story for another time). They also seeped out when random strangers brought up their moms or when I watched movies featuring sweet, attentive mothers.

How have you started to address those problems?

Recapping eight years of work is tough. I’d say the biggest thing that helped me was acknowledging that, yeah, this relationship sucks. Since a lot of us (and the people we love) make excuses for our moms, that step can be the hardest.

Then I had to really learn how to spend time with my emotions, especially the grief I felt. I didn’t know that you could grieve something that you never had. Turns out you can! (This is one of my favorite chapters in the book, by the way.) Once I spent more time with those emotions, really grieving my face off, I was able to accept this relationship and everything that comes with it for what it is.

At that point, it was way easier to set boundaries. Unfortunately, going low-contact was THE thing that helped the most (wish it wasn’t true, but it is). As with a breakup with a romantic partner, taking space allows you to focus on yourself and ~heal~ from that dynamic.

Writing a book helped too :) I found my people and got really comfortable owning this dysfunctional relationship. Though, writing a book is really intense, and I truly do not recommend it.

What changes are you hoping to make in the future?

I’m taking it one day at a time. For now, the changes I’ve put in place are working for me.

How have you taken care of yourself through this process?

Believing myself and my feelings was the biggest, most important thing. Yes, therapy helps you gain perspective, but it takes work on your own to really accept a bad relationship with your mom for what it is. When I finally blocked my mom’s number, I was able to prioritize my feelings over my mom’s. I learned how to be OK with her not being OK. If you think this sounds selfish, we should chat! I’d honestly love to hear from you! Debate! Is! Welcome!

What have you learned about yourself during this process?

For better or worse, this relationship is a part of who I am. Yes, I am more than my dysfunctional relationship with my mom, and yet it’s an important point in my story. While my relationship with my mom remains painful and sucks, owning this aspect of my life enabled me to connect with so many people. It brought this newsletter to your inbox, which is pretty cool.

Plus, working through the impact of this relationship has changed how I move through the world indefinitely. I can’t remember the last time my face turned bright red or I couldn’t breathe in a social situation. I now believe that my best friends do care about me as much as I care for them. Most of the time, I’m comfortable being seen as awkward or weird. I’m fine being the villain in someone else’s (untrue) narrative. I can’t wait to be a mom who snuggles and back scratches unprompted!

What have you learned about your mom?

I’ve learned that Foxy is going to Foxy. That’s totally fine! She has every right to do her for the foreseeable future. Sometimes I think about her audacity and admire it.

I’ve also learned that there are things I will never learn. I don’t think I will completely understand her motivations or why she is the way she is—but I don’t have to. I know how she’s responded to my feelings, and that’s all I need to make the best decisions to move forward.

How would you describe your relationship with your mom right now?

We are low-contact. Some might even define it as estranged or no-contact. Basically, we see each other on holidays or at family gatherings. I’m fine hugging her and saying love you at those events, but I don’t need more than that.

What would you say to the version of yourself at the beginning of this process?

Believe yourself. Your feelings are real. You’re not making this up. You don’t have to keep catering to someone who doesn’t do the same for you. You’ll feel better once you stop.

**This is not important, but I feel compelled to tell you that I hate the word “healing.” To me, it feels cringe and as meaningless as the word “wellness.” That said, I don’t know that there is a better word to encapsulate the process of overcoming your pain or going from feeling broken to feeling whole. If you’ve got a better one, let a girl know.