“Imagine meeting yourself. Who do you see?’”
This was the opening line of a series I just started watching. It intrigued me.
Imagine having a metaphysical twin, another ‘self’ that could see you objectively. Another you to consult with and trust implicitly. A self that could call you on your shit, but at the same time would forgive you and always love you regardless of your imperfections. A self that couldn't hurt you, but held the space for you when you looked in the mirror and didn't like what you saw - your flaws, fragility, fears and trauma.
Does each of us have this kind of holy angel inside us? Do we just need to listen carefully and wade through all that crap that comes with self-doubt? Is this self-love?
I have been working hard on myself for the last few years. It’s taken brutal honesty to unpack the dark and the light sides of myself. I've had to own a lot of my shit, and that really hurts sometimes. But in this process, I have learned to forgive myself and forgive those that have wounded me too. It’s good to let go!
I have found myself thinking of my mother a lot, comparing myself to her, and reassuring myself that at least I wasn’t an alcoholic or a narcissist capable of cruel, hateful behavior. It wasn’t that bad! But I did have the fallout from her influence to deal with which created my own flaws and idiosyncrasies.
Because, while I didn't own her brand of neurosis, I created my own which was perhaps equally as hurtful to the ones I loved. The damage and sense of abandonment I suffered as a child meant that as an adult, I wasn't always ‘present.’
I was often angry and unhappy. I projected my pain and torment. I had no idea who I was and lived through my children - perhaps loving them in a way that made them feel overburdened. I was completely unaware of this, as I was heralded as a great mother by friends and family. But what my kids saw was an angry garden gnome - their nickname for me. I had no boundaries (I didn't know what they were,) and my confusion as a parent, as an unfulfilled woman, crept into their lives like cancer. But I loved my children passionately. I thought that was enough - just to love them. But was that in itself a condition.
The one thing I could never imagine was being distanced from them, not being an intricate part of their lives. Each one of them, at one time or another, has ghosted me. Some for a short time, some for years. The pain of their projected anger and not being able to talk about it has been unbearable. I would go into victim mode and self-loathing for being a bad mother. Even in my mother’s darkest moments, I stood by her - yes angry and saying hateful things to her, but never did I ghost her without apparent reason, not have my calls picked up, being sent long-winded hateful emails.
I had taken the role of parenting very seriously - it was my full-time job till my youngest was six and the eldest thirteen. Then, the hands-on, always there, mummy left her unhappy marriage, started to work, and fell in love. A trifecta for destabilizing kids
My new husband, their step-father was a complex man, an uncomfortable father and although my divorce from my first husband was amicable and we shared custody, the children were of course affected, their family unit was torn apart.
Again, I thought that my love and devotion to them was enough to see them through.
Did I break the unit yet again by running away from the second unhappy marriage and moving to Bali? They were adults now, unaffected by my status, I thought. Two of my three kids actually followed me here and lived with me for two and fours years respectfully. We had so much fun, and they were happy in Bali but eventually chose to move back to Sydney. I was devastated to see them leave, but they were adults and free to choose their own destiny.
I take responsibility for my shortcomings, I was damaged and in turn, I damaged my children and for that, I seek their forgiveness, but to no avail. I’ve gone into periods of self-loathing and shame and pity and victimhood.
I have also thought long and hard and worked at developing a better version of myself. I still do weekly therapy, probably for the rest of my life. I’ve had to re-learn and rewire beliefs and learn acceptance and unconditional love for myself and others I love. I have to learn to just accept how my children feel and love them unconditionally regardless. I have to hon
our my pain then let it go. My children are all adults living their own lives, I can only receive their love and their time if it’s given willingly. But I've learnt to protect myself from their outbursts a little better and don’t crumble into a useless heap every time they reject me. I tried to understand their projections, and their issues, with compassion and non-judgement. Because at the end of the day, I care more about my children than anyone. I can’t change them or force them to accept and love me. I don't have a twin self to call upon to refine my rough edges, calm my anxieties, alleviate my fears and pain or change the past. I have to do that myself, that’s my responsibility to learn to self-nurture, self-soothe, not theirs, to get to be my higher self is my journey and they are just the best and most brutal teachers to do that!
What I have learned at a glance:
Take ‘time out’ and think before reacting.
Identify triggers.
Realise when others are projecting.
Only feel unconditional love and acceptance towards my children even when they are hurting me.
Accept that it’s not always about me. I am not the centre of their universe.
Avoid judgement and self-righteousness.
Remind myself that I am a good person and worthy of love.
Remind myself that this too will pass - eventually.
I hope this may help any of you out there with fractious relationships with your kids. I know most families have some issues that we don’t talk about because of guilt or shame. Let’s lift the lid on pretending that we're all perfect parents and open the door to healing and forgiveness.
Love
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