Rescuing my daughter from my Mother Wound

Rescuing my daughter from my Mother Wound

Do you ever notice feeling stirred up when you are a car passenger? Maybe you felt really safe, taken care of, held or maybe you felt out of control, powerless, unsafe? Last time I was driven by my housemate I confessed to her

I loved you a little bit too much last night. I felt so safe with you driving” and then I laughed and sobbed hysterically and remembered I hadn’t felt very safe as a kid when my mum drove.

Last night, as I drove another friend through a misty, wet night, he too was enjoying this feeling of being held; letting someone else drive. For those of us who have to ‘drive’ and contain a lot in our lives, it can be a sweet spot when someone else drives for a bit. Sometimes the sweet moments in life when we feel supported can counter feelings of isolation and allow some of the related fear and hurt to bubble up. Similarly, I had previously sobbed in bouts for days at the simple gesture of him noticing I had a whole bunch of bags to carry and taking them to my car. I have such a lot to carry in my life and for someone else to take on just a little of it moved me deeply.

I always thought it was having a heavy life load that left me resistant to my 4 year old daughter’s pleas to be constantly carried. I get so triggered by her asking to be carried and refusing to walk. Even knowing that when in my right mind I would choose to lift her, my body overrides and walks away from my screaming child. For fuck’s sake I have crates of vegetables…and the belongings I shuffle between two houses weekly…and all the school bags… and shoes…and toys… can’t she see I have enough to carry?

But this weekend I discovered something deeper. I began dreamily singing a song from my dear friend Julie Dawid’s birth album ‘Jamazing’:

I’m gonna lift my mother up, she is not heavy

I’m gonna lift my mother up, she is not heavy

I’m gonna lift my mother up, she is not heavy

If I don’t lift her up, If I don’t lift her up

I will fall down

I’m gonna lift my daughter up, she is not heavy

I’m gonna lift my daughter up, she is not heavy

I’m gonna lift my daughter up, she is not heavy

If I don’t lift her up, If I don’t lift her up

I will fall down

I haven’t spoken to my mother since she recently called Social Services on me a couple of months ago in response to our choice to help our son with Neurofeedback treatment. I really understand that this was a result of the fear she carries from hurts in her childhood that noone should have to go through and yet I wanted my mother to understand and be there for me. … can’t she see I have enough to carry?

I have been reluctantly coming to the realisation that as much as I would love for her to be the one carrying the apology and repair of our relationship, I am the one that has a greater emotional capacity and am going to have to take the lead and parental role on this one. Singing the first verse was a mantra that returned me to this inconvenient truth.

As I sang the second verse my face cracked open with a crazy grin. The reason I have been struggling so much with carrying my daughter is in rebellion to having to carry my mother! It somehow feels much easier to deny this small female relation in her (much more appropriate) desire to be carried than to deny the ageing one.

SO wonderful when a restimulation becomes apparent. I can say yes to my daughter and be boundaried around my mother. Let me do my part to ensure the energy flows the correct way down the maternal line. I’ve found myself able to carry my daughter with glee; offering her the affection and holding that she longs for. And in doing so I carry the little girl in me that is longing for my mama to have my back. And it feels powerful.

1 Comment

  1. Beautiful. Love you so much Roma xxxx

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