
Following yesterdays posting I was still left pondering what else was going on in my brain, but having limited myself to one post a day, I had to wait until today to write this.
If the truth is also to be known in this case, I was dearly hoping for some more clarity on the topic before I began to write about it today. I know that is silly because as I have said previously - writing is what it takes to help me figure things out.
We all have issues and while they are unique perhaps to us, they are not unique to the social conscience of the planet. Yet we each are alone going through our experiences. Perhaps that is what leads me to speak about my “mothers”.. of which I have had many. One by birth, one by marriage and a few others who stepped into the role over the years.
For my part and without assigning guilt or blame to anybody – I will be honest and say that I was always looking for a mother figure in my life whether I knew it or not. Actually I’m not sure if it was a mother figure or someone to do what I thought a mother did and I’m sure there is a difference between the two.
I know that while these memories are mine – they may have been clouded by emotions, time, others opinions or purposeful creative re-telling of stories etc., I believe those things are partially why I find it so hard to disseminate the fact from the fiction and ultimately find peace with this issue. I also know that the how I got here part isn't as important as the effects it had.
I was too young to remember much of that part of my life or blocked out having to choose between my parents - as that much I did understand. I know that I also understood fear and abandonment. Those lessons have stayed with me for life and while I have overcome so much with so many people, the one remaining is with my birth mother.
During the years my birth mother was not in the picture – my memories of her and any knowledge of the truth disappeared or were tainted by the many varied women vying for that role in my life. Suffice to say that the one constant in my life was my "dream" of having a mother - upon which my hopes and dreams rose and fell, perhaps unrealistically - but that too I believe was driven by the part of my spirit was strong enough to survive and keep them alive.
One specific step mother hated the fact there was someone before her and systematically poisoned my mind and memories towards my birth mother to the point I no longer know where the fiction ends and the facts start. In recent years I learned how much poison she spread over the years of my exposure to her and the impact of her venom has caused many to pay prices of which they were not aware.
If I had known what instinct was at the age I was when I met her, I would have surely listened to it when it told me she was white death. I don’t mean the powdered kind, I mean the human kind. It took me years to unravel her web of lies and deceit and even longer to forgive myself for not believing in myself enough to not become a proud younger version of her. I do also need to remember I was in grade school when she began her manipulations - so should cut myself some slack.
Another such actress taught me how little value life had. How being a female was a role to be endured but not enjoyed. How to be grateful for any spec of attention or affection from any male was better than being ignored. She taught me that women have no value – to themselves or anybody else. It took me a long time to figure out she was wrong and that while she may have felt that personally, I didn’t have to feel that way about myself. After a while I was grateful for her teachings because she taught me more about what I wanted for myself and my life than I had learned to date.
One more actress taught me that being a strong woman was a good thing no matter what the price. She taught me that being inflexible and rigid were the only ways to succeed in life. She taught me that prices were only paid by the weak and emotional and only the strong survived. Some parts of her lessons were good and others I wish I had not learned as they took me a long time to unlearn.
I could go on but you get the idea. Over the years the stock I placed in the value of a "mom" increased dramatically – especially as the imposters continued to spread their own particular brands of poison. Yet each one had been there with me, spending the time and giving the illusion of being loving and caring and I had fed on it and the little girl part of me was devastated every time the relationships failed and they moved on. I think every time one left, the dream got bigger. While it is understood – these pedestals can be made pretty high from years of expectations, hopes and dreams. Not exactly fair, but they do say when you know better, you do better.
Some time later I was put in touch with my birth mother and my unrealistic expectations probably hurt both of us. I didn’t know I was being unrealistic at the time, I just thought my knight in shining armor had come. I thought after all of these years she had come for me. I had confused ideas about love and what being in touch again meant.
Yet all of this was from my perspective only and I don’t think I once looked at it from her point of view. I don’t know if it would have changed anything if I did – but being a selfish teenager, I wanted and needed a mother that I had never had.
I didn’t think then that I had expected miracles I just wanted a mother that loved me that I lived with like everybody I knew at school. I wanted to do all the fun girly things together to have that bond I had seen with other mother/daughter combinations. I had chased this dream through all of my girlfriends in my school days and in most cases was treated really well by their mothers and families. Most of my friends were from big Italian families which no doubt furthered my dreams of what a mother should be like, say and do. Not the fairest to be sure, but a far sight better than the previous actresses.
I wish I could have found a way to explain that to my mother when we met. To explain that I was new at being a daughter and that I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid that like the others, she would leave. That I wouldn’t be good enough, pretty enough, funny enough or daughterly enough for her to love me.
When we met I already knew I had a younger sister and for years that bothered me. Not the person herself, but the fact that she existed was loved, cared for and kept, when I was not. I didn’t have the knowledge at the age of 16 to not let that affect my self esteem, but I wish I did. For the next few years this dance of struggling continued until I moved out of the province for a chance at a new life.
I don’t know that she understood why I left any more than I understood why she did. In that I guess we are both the same – misunderstood. During the following years we both tried as best we could, but I don’t know that either one of us knew what to say or do or how to make this into what was in our hearts and heads. Perhaps even trying at all was the problem, perhaps too much time had gone by to get what we were both looking for. That said, I have no idea what her wants, needs, hopes, dreams or expectations were out of our relationship. I don’t know that I ever asked. I was probably too young and selfish learning to live my own life that I just assumed things. Maybe we wanted much different things and that is what set us again onto our two different paths. Side by side albeit, but still different.
What I know I learned, was that I didn’t know how to be a daughter to her, so in my own mind any chance I had of learning how to be a daughter to my father would be even more impossible given our history. That fear also stayed with me for many years with my husband and his family.
Luckily for me I had enjoyed a few “actress free” years before meeting up with my birth mother., so I was completely open to the experience - big dreams and all. But perhaps unluckily for my birth mother I had only the few years of our botched learning experiences to work with before meeting the woman that fulfilled the "dream" that had been in my mind for years.
She taught me all the things I thought a mother teaches her daughter – you know, the things that aren’t written in books. She shared the tender touches, quiet whispers, joyful jokes and explained all those things that I had never before understood. She opened up a world that I had never seen before and I loved it. Well the parts of me that weren’t scared I would mess it up did. Over time she showed me that a mothers’ love doesn’t end and no matter what your child does, you still love them and finally my fears began to recede. These are the things that I imagine my birth mother shares with my sister.
It was then that I gave her my heart and finally started to believe. Faith fully restored I jumped in head first. Her having always wanted a daughter to share things with –we were a perfect match and were lucky enough to spend almost 20 years together before she passed away this year.
I held her hand from the ambulance into the room we said all of our goodbyes. I straightened her sweater and fixed her hair, hugged her and kissed her to make her ready. I called her friends, comforted her family and created a memorial for her funeral that I know she would have loved. Then I collapsed. I had lost another mother.
I was alone again yet I wasn’t. I still had my birth mother – but she seemed so far away, so unreachable, so untouchable. I was so confused. At times being with her had made me feel like I was at home. Moments when I saw my own hand gestures reflected in her own. But I didn’t know how to be in a relationship with her. I had no earthly idea and having not spoken to her in years I didn’t know how to go back. I was afraid of being hurt and would rather have had no contact than hurt anymore.
I am explaining it in this way so she can see how my value and expectations became what they were and why they are still that way. I’m learning to adjust them according to the person in the role, but it’s hard at times to realize the people are different than the dreams. I know she is now just learning her own issues and concerns about the same topic and will have her own hopes, dreams and opinions on the topic.
I don't know if you have to be a mother to know how to do it - or if you have to be mothered first to know how. I don't know how relationships that should come so easily are sometimes filled with such heartaches. I don't know how to have a relationship with my mother and that hurts me, deeply.
Yet I don't say that in any way of blame because that is not how I feel. I don't blame anybody and the how or why don't matter really, because you cannot undo the past, but can only move forward to a new future.
Perhaps it was my own insecurity that has not allowed me to feel her love - or perhaps it was the fear of losing her again that prevented me from getting closer. I know she has said that she will never leave and can never be the mother I want her to be - and for that I am truly sad. But sadness does not mean that anybody has done anything wrong or failed. She hasn't let me down because the lessons I learned in life from this have done me well.
Even at this age, I have not given up on us getting to know each other to find some bond to experience joy in. I will never stop loving my mother even if we never find a way to have that close nurturing relationship that is in my mind. That said, what I want isn't the only thing that matters here. It also matters what she wants, what she is capable of and what is right for her too.
I don't know if perhaps she was not "mothered" in a nurturing way and has learned to do it for herself. I have not yet learned that skill or talent but am working on it. I don't know if this situation will ever change - for either of us, but I do know that it affects me in all areas of my life, even though I don't want it to.
I know I should just have faith and let it be, let things happen and just go with it but this is too important to me. Maybe that is where I went wrong - putting too much pressure on the idea of a mother - so much so, that it has left me alone.
Well not alone.... just living a different life in the best way I know how... and maybe that is as it should be. I read that at some point before our birth we choose the journey we take, with those we take it with - I just wish I knew the lessons or the reasons why for this one.
I guess just like anything else - its best to take it one step at a time... and see where the paths lead... but I do know one thing, it isn't a question of not loving on either side... and I don't know if I have the words to explain it. It just is and I know we'll move forward - stumble and fall as we find our way to whatever it will be.
Perhaps its time I let go of the comparrisons and roadmap I had created and just let her be herself and accept and love her for who she is, not what I wanted her to be. The lady that is my mother - and I do say lady, is beautiful inside and out. She has a smile that will light up a room and a laugh that I just love to hear. She is such a strong person - probably stronger than she knows and probably stronger than she wanted to be. She is kind and gentle when she allows herself to be and people just seem to gravitate towards her.
I don't know that she sees all the goodness that everybody else sees in her, but I do and perhaps that is why she is so important to me. She is where I get so many parts of me from - and she is my past, my present and my future.
Maybe my mother has taught me more than I ever could have imagined about loving someone no matter what the circumstances - with no conditions and no expectations other than to just be. I think its time for me to stop holding up what I wanted vs. the reality and see just how much they are the same. The differences don't matter any more - all that matters is that we are both present and going the same direction .. maybe not on the same path - but that too is as it should be. We both have our separate lives to lead, but we are and always will be - together.
I love you mom and I don't know if you know just how much. I'm sorry for being selfish over the years and not loving you for you and expecting you to be something else. That wasn't fair and I'm sorry. You always did the best you could with the best of intentions. I know that and please know that I am ok. I'm not mad, I'm not angry or hurt. You didnt let me down, you didn't fail. We just didnt do things the traditional way... and that is ok. It's all ok... take care of yourself... you are too special not to.