Mother dearest

This post is a complete 180 to what I had originally planned. Whilst I hadn’t set out to bash my mother I can confidently say this wasn’t originally going to be a flattering post.

I don’t know if I’ve always been drawn to particularly tumultuous relationships because of my tumultuous relationship with my mother or if it’s an excuse I’ve recently added to my list of BS psycho analysis of myself.

I love my mother dearly but we’ve had many down days, many shouting matches and such pent up resentment on both sides sometimes the only resolve has been to stay away from each other which hasn’t been hard as we live continents apart.

I’m currently en route to Barcelona by air and as always the slightest turbulence is making my stomach turn. I’m thinking about my mother today because we took many flights together when I was a little girl and I remember how safe she always made me feel. It only really just hit home how truly brave you have to be as a parent and for that I’m grateful for mother dearest. Every time a plane would do something unfamiliar I would turn to her and ask if ‘we would be okay’ and whilst I can’t quite remember what her exact responses were, I remember the feeling of calm that inevitably ensued. I felt invincible. I felt that if mummy was close nothing bad would happen.

I remember before our relationship started to seriously deteriorate in my early teens we spent a lot of time doing fun things. We would sing together, she would take me to parties, make us matching jewelry and generally wouldn’t let me out of her sight.

It’s easy to sit in the pockets of resentment and lament on how differently I feel things should have been between us. Sometimes it feels even poetic, to reminisce about bitter arguments that ended in tears and sadly, ‘I hate yous’. Sometimes it’s easier to say ‘we just don’t get along’ to avoid unpacking the painful memories and navigating hurtful thoughts.

Today however I choose to remember the fun things. Today I choose to cut mother dearest some slack. Today I choose to remember all the times she made me feel safe. Today I choose to remember the day she wore a pair of mom jeans, came to my school and rattled Maxwell, the bully who made life very irritating. Today I choose to remember every time I’ve told her how someone has done me wrong and her motherly defenses have gone into over drive.

Today I choose to remember the panic attack work book she bought me when I just couldn’t get it together last year. For every time she prayed with me after a job set back or heartbreak.

We may never see eye to eye. We may never unpack the past and we may never get over some horrible arguments but if getting older has taught me anything it’s that sometimes life deals us shitty cards and that nobody is perfect. Be gentle with your mothers.




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