It’s not easy to reconcile and heal your relationship with your mother if it’s been a source of suffering.
It’s an ongoing process that can include the cycling of intense emotion (fear, rage, grief) and the seeming lack of emotion (numbness).
It can also include blame, shame, and resistance.
And it can be joyous…the most life-affirming thing you’ve ever done.
Here’s what’s been true for me: the healing isn’t the result of telling myself that I should feel a certain way about her (although I tried that), or that I need to see her objectively (I’ve done that, too), or that I needed to forgive her (been there, done that), but rather from a deep, abiding, unconditional love and acceptance for my(whole)self, which includes all of my pieces, parts, aspects, experiences, and all the ages I’ve ever been.
It came from being willing to express what is (and was) true while no longer being held hostage by it.
It came from being willing to let go of what I thought think healing should look like.
It came from being willing to feel.
It came from not being afraid to feel uncomfortable in the future.
It came from attending to and repairing trauma.
It came from acknowledging when I’ve done harm.
It came from choosing to trust myself.
It came from choosing to take radical responsibility for myself and no longer needing the blame, shame, and resistance.
It came from having healthy, mature boundaries.
It came from remembering that I want to like and respect myself.
And for sure, I forget sometimes.
To be honest, it’s one of the reasons I write what I write and say what I say and do what I do. In order to keep remembering.
It’s how I make it real in my life.
Because you know what? It’s not about her, it’s about me.
And it’s about you.
I do this extraordinary work with women who are committed to the same. Who know that there’s too much at stake to settle for the status quo. Who no longer want to abandon themselves…or model abandoning themselves for their daughters.
Who (to paraphrase Glennon Doyle) are instead ready to abandon the expectations of others so they can honor themselves even knowing that they’ve been trained to believe that when they honor themselves they are somehow hurting their mothers (or someone else).
Will some people be uncomfortable? Yes.
When you make the choice to honor yourself from a place of emotional maturity and compassion (and there’s nothing wishy-washy about compassion), it can’t help but serve the greater good.
My clients are successful, creative women who establish and maintain healthy, mature boundaries; no longer rush to the less-than position in their relationships; and choose to express themselves clearly and cleanly. They have achieved a significant level of success by following the rules and now they’re choosing to be more authentic and vulnerable in public knowing they can handle haters and critics (even their mothers).
There are two ways to do the work with me:
The Mother Lode: is a six-month deep dive into your maternal lineage and more with the goal of revealing and healing painful patterns and stories, and transforming your legacy so you can show up in your life as the magnificent woman you are. This offer is for women who want to use the troubled relationship they have with their mothers as a catalyst for growth.They want to take their time and lay a solid foundation for their future selves.
Boundaries For Life: is an 8-week intensive with the goal of establishing and maintaining healthy, mature boundaries. This offer is for women who want to get it done (and now is a perfect time, with the holidays right around the corner) especially if you tend to shrink back, crumple, fold, or hide the minute someone challenges your boundaries.
Click here to schedule some time for a virtual coffee date (via Zoom) so we can explore what you’re wanting to accomplish.
Much, much love.
In this photo, which was taken in April 2018 at Bank Square Books in Mystic, CT, for the launch of Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters: A Guide For Separation, Liberation & Inspiration, I am holding the high school graduation photos of my grandmother (1935), my mother (1958), and me (1980).