When Loving Means Letting Go
Navigating the pain of cutting off my relationship with my mother to find inner peace and true self-compassion
It’s been an intense couple of weeks. I feel like I am simultaneously feeling more depth of love and compassion for myself and, facing the most painful thought I’ve believed. It’s all very present.
I’ve always deeply needed to understand why things are the way they are. This didn’t work well with a mother who only responded with, “Because I said so”, or, “Because I’m your mother”. Knowing the “why” from a logical perspective helps me find peace in situations my heart can’t comprehend. This is another aspect of neurodivergence I wasn’t previously aware of. I have been learning so much about myself since reading Divergent Mind.
In understanding the nuances of how my differing brain chemistry manifests itself in my behaviors, emotions, and reactions, I have found myself saying, “Oh my gosh, it makes so much sense that I’ve felt—overwhelmed, anxious, like a failure, broken, etc., in setting that were—busy (visually and literally), unorganized, chaotic (emotionally and physically), loud, etc, and of course that has led to—depression, emotional eating, alcohol abuse, numbing out, dissociating, breakdowns, panic attacks, meltdowns, etc.—like, ”Duh I felt that way, I’m sensitive to all of those inputs”.
I’m cutting myself a break on many of my “ways of being” that I’ve been so harsh on myself for in the past. This is where I can hold a greater capacity of love and compassion for myself.
However, my shadows became amplified after another really bad fight with my mom. I know, I said I was done fighting with her, but when my defenses are down, my ability to keep my mouth shut flies out of the window. I was in a ton of pain. I’d just returned to my parents’ house after being at the urgent care/ER for eight hours, with no answer. It’s an emotionally exhausting and scary process that I’ve been through a handful of times before. So by the time I made it home, I just wanted to curl up on the couch with a heating pad and a nourishing bowl of kitchari. My mom asked if she could help me and I said it would be so nice if she could make my dinner. She responded with, “Can’t you just eat something that’s already prepared?”.
It was the perfect storm of one of my triggers—me in pain, scared about what was happening with my health, frustrated by not having any answers, desperately needing nurturing, gentleness, and compassion, but instead being met with frustration.
When I said I just needed a mom who didn’t make me feel bad when I was already down, a mom who shows up with compassion, understanding, and love, she responded with, “Have you thought that maybe you’re hard to love?''. I snapped. I told her to get away from me immediately, but my rage was burning so bright, minutes later, I flew into the room she was in to say, “As soon as I am well enough to leave this house, you will not see or hear from me”. My inner child was so hurt and she was angry!
It was a wildly emotional day, but also very revealing day.
I was faced with the anger I am still harboring for my mom not being by my side when I had an abortion at 16. I was faced with the part of me who still so desperately wants a mom who can attune to my emotional state. I was faced with the lack of nurturing I’d been providing myself, which contributed to my flare-up. I was faced with the beliefs I took on from a mom who doesn’t know how to love (herself or me)—that I’m not loveable, that I’m too much, and that there’s something wrong with me.
I’m an adult, and I recognize that I can’t continue to blame her for the way I took on her abuse, but I do. I move through these cycles of anger, hurt, and grief, and then compassion and forgiveness for her. Forgiving her hasn’t worked, because when I get around her, her sharp words come out, cutting me deeply, and I immediately pull my knives out. I have to try something different. I told her that day that I would never remain in such an abusive relationship, but she’s my mom, so I don’t know what to do with that.
I’ve been sitting with this for the last week. I feel the clarity has finally come in. I really do love my mom. I can see how much pain she is in, and if I had the power to alleviate her suffering, I would. The reality is that she is a very unhealed person and maintaining a relationship with her has been detrimental to both my mental and physical health for a very, very long time. I have considered cutting of my relationship with her many times before, but it felt unkind, unloving. I feared it would make me a bad daughter, a bad person. So I have spent fifteen years tirelessly working on my issues to be able to show up better with her, but I have been perpetuating the cycle of abuse.
Letting someone speak to me in the ways she does, taking the blame for every fight, gaslighting myself, and turning myself into a horrible person—that’s not love. The most loving thing I can to for myself and for her is to create distance. I don’t know what this will look like. It’s still painful to think about. My mom just turn 75 and I don’t know how much longer she will be around. I have desperately wanted to heal our relationship while she is still here, but it has been breaking me in the process.
So, whether I choose to say something to her or not, I am deciding within myself to “cut off” my relationship with her. I have been expecting someone who does not have the capacity to love me to show me that I’m loveable. That’s insane. It’s painful. A mother should be the epitome of unconditional love, but those are the cards I was dealt. I need space to recognize that I don’t need her love and approval to know I am worthy of love. The only way to free us both from this cycle is for me to let go of the idea that one day she will be the mom I need. And I need time to do that, time without engaging with her, without stepping back into the stories, the patterns.
I know this is all for a reason—me being born into the family I was—feeling so different, so misunderstood, so separate, so unloved, so unsupported. The pain I feel in our relationship will give birth to the ways I am meant to serve this world, I believe that with my whole heart; but I won’t discover the gifts if I never take the time away from the deception to remember the truth—that I am loveable because I am love.
I am ready to flourish. I am ready to bring the light of the Holy Spirit to these painful beliefs so that they can be transmuted. So I can feel the love of God more deeply in my heart. So I can believe in myself enough to be in service to this world in the ways I’ve always felt called to.
If anyone can relate. If anyone has ever had to cut off their relationship with a parent. If you’re questioning this right now. You are not alone.
A Song If This Resonated: Empowerment
Love Always,
Becca
This one’s for you. I love you.