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My Mother, Myself

 

It is the rare woman who has a close, vibrant relationship with her mother. I believe this is proof of the marginalization of the work of motherhood through the ages, rather than evidence of all the ways in which our mothers may have failed us.  It can take a lifetime to make peace with this realization.

I believe that becoming strong mothers requires making such a peace, even if we have lost all but the memory of our mother’s love. Our own capacity to love is at stake, regardless of how different and distant we may think we are from the woman who gave us life.

Exploring my relationship with my own mother, and all the ways in which she loved me, has been a lifetime’s discovery. There is nothing like re-discovering your own past on your own terms to increase vitality and serenity in life.  I have found this to be true even when there are genuinely wounding circumstances associated with our mother’s love for us.

It takes courage to look back into our first experience of being loved, or not being loved. This looking back is a choice. It can be a very calming, centering step when the time feels right.