Mother's Day means cards and flowers and gifts with pretty bows for most people. But there are others who do not share the joy of this day. Children who's mothers beat and abused them through their precious and formative years, for who the whole idea of mother is wrapped up in grief and anger and fear.
There are women for who infertility is just becoming apparent, and with every monthly check of the pregnancy test they suffer, Mother's Day is just another marker on the yearning. (I was there 8 years ago....)
There are families who have lost all their children, for who mother's day reminds them of their loss.
There are mother's who's children have walked out and are somewhere out there, suffering in drugs or mental illness.
And there are others.
I fall into the first category, and for me Mother's Day, no matter how many smiles and hugs my kids lavish on me, is still filled with anger and memories of fear. It is easy to say move on, not as easy to do. The materialism and vanity of the holiday was the cornerstone of the abuse for me as a child, as it was the basis of it everyday, but Mother's Day, Christmas, and birthdays were an amplified terror. Even as an adult, I have trouble with family members believing me. No one would have thought (insert super villain or abusive schmuck of your choice here) was a bad guy until he/she confessed, most abusers have a similar cover story and identity. Some go as far as appearing on Oprah to advocate for gentle parenting (and upon returning home beat their daughter with a vanity mirror until it shatters on her skin and embeds glass shards deep in scar tissue). Crazy is as crazy does.
This Mother's Day is no different for me. I want it to be. I look at my hands and see that they are not hers, nor is my heart. I don't have to try to not turn into her, because I am not her.
I have reclaimed Christmas for my girls, learned to replace the hurt and fear of that holiday with the JOY of Christ's birth. Mother's Day is not about Jesus though, it is about cards and presents. My idea of reclaiming this holiday is to just harvest hugs, be loving, and cherish my children EVERY day. Today I celebrate all the women who stepped in to role model what a caring adult should act like, how a human being should care for others, and told me I was loved. Aunts, cousins, teachers, neighbors, professors, friends.....have all replaced and filled in the blank that was once filled with regret, longing, terror, and anger.
I am not my mother. This is not my Mother's Day.
You are not alone with this. I too fall under the "why do I want to celebrate an abusive mother?"
ReplyDeleteI don't even speak to that person and I sure am not going to thank her for gift of anger and pain she lavished on me.
I don't let my kids do anything for me as well. If they want to do something for me nice, then do it when they feel like it and not let someone they don't know tell them when they should do it.
Now that I am older (and my hands do look like hers) I have thrown off the boxed in feelings of all "holidays"..... There are no birthdays, anniversaries, christmas, mother's day, ect....
Extreme? Maybe. But I get all the love and cards and gifts showered on me when my loved ones are moved to do so. Not when a commercial on tv tells them it is time to do so.
And for what it's worth.....
I am so very happy and want for nothing.
I can forgive, but I can never forget. And there is no sense in paying tribute to a nightmare!