Dear Nar,

I’ve been catching up with this topic and enjoyed the depth of discussion and the great insights provided by Anita.

Your mother seems similar to mine in the sense that my mother was also strict, criticizing me all the time and I was afraid of her as a child. You mentioned that neither you or your sister confide in your mother, and it’s the same with me. I’ve felt that when I was honest with her, she would later use it against me to put me down.

My mother too believed she was a “martyr” who would “do anything for me” (I am the only child). Like your parents, she and my father provided financially for me. We were middle class and they afforded me everything that serves my education and professional development (they paid for language schools, summer courses abroad, internships abroad, etc).

Regardless of that, my mother wasn’t very supportive of me. She had an idea of who I should become, and “what’s best for me”. In spite of her providing for me materially and affording me all those things, she actually hasn’t provided me with emotional nurturance and support – which is even more important than the material one.  Because of her constant criticism and complaining about life (and blaming everyone but herself), I thought it was my fault and that if I could only be perfect, she would finally be happy. Little did I know that her unhappiness was deeply rooted in her own emotional wounds and had nothing to do with me. Even if I’d become perfect, she still wouldn’t be happy. But I’ve realized that only much later in life.

So I grew up with a very deep shame, lack of self-esteem, lack of self-worth. I had every material need met, but none of the emotional ones. My father was better, much less judgmental and strict, with much more understanding for me, but he did nothing to stop my mother from tormenting me. He was a silent accomplice, so to speak.

Anita made some excellent remarks about how we as children depend on our parents for safety and support, and if they turn against us, attacking and criticizing us, it’s devastating because we have nowhere to run. They are our entire world. We look to them for protection, but at the same time, we fear them, because their love is very conditional. So we try to be a “good girl” or a “good boy”, to please them, so they wouldn’t abandon us.

I had a love-hate relationship with my mother, because I needed her, both physically and emotionally, and she did meet some of my needs, but not that what I truly needed emotionally. And I hated her for that.

I guess something similar may be happening inside of you too, where a part of you loves your mother and appreciates the support she provided, but the other part is rebelling, because your true emotional needs weren’t met. But what seems to also have happened is that you’re judging the rebellious part as bad. You talked about being cruel towards your granny and not helping her when she needed it. This you take as a proof that you were “a bad girl”.

But the reality is, most likely, that it was your mother who planted this idea that you were “bad” much earlier than you treated your granny like that. And you started believing her. When a child believes they’re bad, they will sooner or later start behaving in ways that “prove” how bad they are. Our mother’s critical voice becomes our owner inner critic, which torments us the same way our mother did.

As adults, our lives start falling apart and we think our mother was right – that we’re a failure and good for nothing. But the truth is the opposite: our life fell apart because we were raised with shame and criticism and were told we’re good for nothing.

Until we realize that – until we see how the wounding happened – we cannot truly heal.

I stop here, but there’s much more to be said on this topic.