I have not distanced myself from my mother by choice; she is eager to reconnect and be a significant part of my life. However, I am not interested in restoring our past dynamic. What I seek is transformation. I yearn for a relationship that is uncomplicated and nurturing, one where love is unconditional. Yet, I find myself fatigued and have relinquished hope for her personal growth and emotional healing.
It has been nearly two years since I made the decision to limit contact with my mother due to the detrimental effects of our relationship. While I haven’t completely severed ties, I often wish I could. For the most part, I have safeguarded my emotional health, but she still has access to me and, more importantly, to my children.
Prior to requesting that she cease her frequent calls, visits, and daily emails, I attempted to set boundaries that would facilitate a healthier interaction—primarily for my own well-being. My relationship with my mother has always been complex. On the outside, she appeared as an overprotective and affectionate parent, but underneath lay unhealthy intentions rooted in her unresolved trauma. Having endured childhood and domestic abuse herself, she looked to me to fulfill her emotional needs rather than seeking therapy. Even after I became a victim of physical and sexual abuse, I was still viewed as someone who needed to shield her, despite her complicity in my suffering.
The collision between her denial of my needs as a child and her conviction that she did all she could to protect me creates turmoil during our interactions. Her experiences should have served as a catalyst for understanding the impact of abuse, but instead, they have fostered her emotional dependency on me. To others, she appears as a loving grandmother, but for me, she serves as a reminder of past traumas that intrude upon my present.
In therapy, I worked diligently to maintain distance from my mother while attempting to preserve a relationship. I desired a parent to rely on, and I wanted my children to know their grandmother. Despite her unhealthy patterns, she was attentive to my kids, who enjoyed her company—even if I had to intervene at times. I often corrected her inappropriate comments and halted her attempts to place her emotions onto my children when she guilted them into affection or expressed sadness when they chose to play with friends instead of her. I made it clear that my kids are not responsible for her emotional well-being.
My priority is to protect my children; if she wants to be part of their lives, she must respect the boundaries I have established. Currently, she struggles with accepting the limits that prevent her from having contact with them. She often emails, expressing her devastation over missing her grandchildren, insisting that I am punishing her by keeping them away. This is not the case; they are simply too young to reach out on their own. My mother relies on me to mediate her relationship with them, but I need to focus on my own healing by reducing her emotional demands. I required a break and control over my interactions with her.
Despite my requests for her to refrain from contacting me, she continues to reach out. I do not answer her calls and only respond to emails when I feel emotionally equipped to create distance from someone I struggle to feel connected to. She still sends gifts for the children on special occasions, but I have asked her to stop sending random packages or notes. The sight of her name on my phone or her handwriting on a letter triggers feelings of unease within me.
Estrangement may be the best option, but she does not agree, and I lack the energy to eliminate all contact. She does not respect my need for distance, so I have closed the door to our relationship but not completely locked it. If I choose to open it, it will be solely for my children.
My kids are still too young to understand why their grandmother has not visited or called, and they are self-absorbed enough not to question her absence. Occasionally, my eldest inquires about Grandma, and I simply explain that sometimes adults need space from one another. She can email a few relatives, including my mother, and if she feels inclined, she may send her a note. I do not force or restrict their relationship, but I keep a watchful eye on it.
I constantly monitor my own feelings as well. Guilt often creeps in regarding the space I need and the confusion it brings her. Yet, I also experience relief from limiting contact with my mother. Some old wounds are beginning to heal without her presence exacerbating them. When I feel a flicker of longing for a mother figure, I remind myself that it is not my mother I truly desire. Ultimately, she is not who I need in my life.
I have ceased expecting her to change, so perhaps my own perspective can shift, allowing me to view my mother as a different person. If I can distance myself far enough, I can release her from the expectations of who I hoped she would be. This might be the most beneficial separation I can achieve.
For further exploration into similar experiences, visit this blog post. Additionally, this source offers invaluable information on related topics, and you can find excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination at Kindbody’s blog.
Summary
The author reflects on the complexities of their relationship with their mother, choosing to maintain a safe distance while navigating the challenges of family dynamics. Through therapy and self-exploration, they seek to heal from past traumas and establish boundaries for their own well-being and the well-being of their children.
Leave a Reply