My mother constantly tells me that I was the child she was supposed to enjoy. I suppose she did not enjoy my sister either. But she was supposed to enjoy me, and then I had to mess everything up by being born broken. She makes it all about her. How hard it was for her, how much she suffered and so on. Which I am sure she did. But she dismisses me, my feelings, how I was impacted. . I cannot even bring it up, if I do she dismisses it she tells me that I was just a baby, I am being to sensitive, and so on. It had no effect on me in her opinion. To admit it did have an impact on me would somehow look badly on her.
I was never permitted to have angry or negative feelings as a child. I did of course, and I was shamed for it. My mother likes nothing more then to tell stories about what a difficult child I was, how I would cry, have tantrums. I have never heard a good story from her about me as a child. She has nothing positive to say about me.
Of course there are positive things in our relationships. Good memories, she has been a good mother in some ways. But the problem is I have spent my life on this positive side doing everything I can to convince myself she is only a good mother. And doing everything I can to do to convince her of that as well. Our roles are reversed. I am the parent and she is the child and I spend my time trying to reassure her and being there for her emotionally. But she is not emotionally available to me. I am protecting both of us from the truth. I spend so much time trying to convince her and reassure her that I am okay. And at the same time masking how I am, pretending I am fine. Not just to her, to the world.
If I tell people how I really am, they will reject me, just like my mother did.
The truth is she cannot handle it. She cannot handle knowing how much she damaged me. She cannot handle knowing my struggle and where I am at. She is the type of mother who does not believe her own daughter when her daughter tells her she was raped. '
I react to most people as if they are my mother. I spend so much time and energy taking care of the needs of others, making sure they are happy, making sure they are okay, making sure they like me. If they are okay and happy then I am okay and happy. I am safe. I focus so much on others ignoring myself and my own needs. I am not permitted to have needs.
I spend so much energy focusing on remaining the "joyful child" so others will like me and accept me. But then I feel unseen, unvalidated, hated, and rejected. When I do this people are not seeing me as me they are seeing what I allow them to see, they are seeing a fake me.
But I have a place now where I can show all of me, where I am encouraged to show all of me. I can be the functioning adult and the wounded child. In fact this is expected Which is wonderful, but it isn't the same.
I want my my mother to be able to enjoy me. I want her to be able to hold me and tell me that it is all going to be okay. I want her to support me. I want to be able to go to her when I have a bad day.
I feel like I am grieving the mother I never had