I really appreciated reading the truth in this story. One piece is your expression and honesty about the anger. I feel like so many women (of course) have this emotion circulating for so many good reasons, but disown it because our culture deems it unseemly and too potent for women (but not so for men- it's admirable fierce fuel unless it's violent). And there is also in this time such a veneration of jetting to a positive mindset at the expense of the slow train ride of being real and true BEFORE arriving at the magical helpful reframe. It sounds like you are in touch with many real things that are moving forward without bypassing. The second piece is about mothering. I also wrote about the complexity of this and Mother's Day yesterday, and the concept of overcorrecting and "do-overs." While I didn't include the full story of my mum there, your share touches on many experiences I also had with sweet Doris hiding things. I'd like to think it is so generational, but I am sure there are so many layers there... I so admire your awareness of what you are seeing and experiencing with your own very insightful daughter. Wow! Your awakeness and realness is a huge gift as a mother and role model for other women, even ones without children like me too! Can't wait to see you on the Slam- it's built for this story! :)
I so appreciate this reflection, Heidi, and I can't wait to read your piece on a similar topic. Doris and Nell, my mother, sound like they might have a lot in common. ;) I do think anger is NOT what you're supposed to feel when your mother is dying. I expected that if I brought it up to anyone besides my closest friends and husband, I would be placated with some assertion that I really should let it go and make peace with her before she died. That just wasn't possible for me, and while the extended anger wasn't healthy, it also wasn't unjustified, and I feel like its fair for us as women to be able to hold both. I'm sure my daughter will also need therapy, like all healthy humans, but I keep asking myself what I hope she's bring there with her, and the two things I keep coming back to are that her mother never lied to her and that she showed up. It's funny that one descended directly FROM my mom while the other is directly BECAUSE of her.
There is so much that your post prompts for me, Jess, but that would be my story and not yours. As I read yours, I am again heartened by the magnificent way you see your daughter and how you support her growth. In my thinking, that support is a gift you give your daughter that safely empowers her to move forward in her life. What a gift! Thank you for sharing this. I look forward to hearing more on the Slam...!
I would invite you to share, if you feel comfortable, what parts of your story this brought up for you. The most generative thing that could come of writing The Joy Luck Club, for me, is if it would spark conversation, reflection, and community, so GO! 😉🧡
Well, since you asked...! 😉You questioned what your mother kept from you and what she kept from herself. When I asked myself that question about my parents, I am convinced they kept it all from themselves. By "it" I am referring to their feelings of inferiority, the inappropriateness of so many of their actions and interactions, the manipulations. They both chose to keep their heads in the sand rather then engage in any self-reflection or, God forbid, therapy (though my mother dipped a toe in twice).
The book "Getting the Love You Want" by Harville Hendricks was so healing for me to read back in the day. My parents' story appeared on so many of its pages. In brief, they recreated in their marriage the exact dysfunctions they both grew up with. That's what can all-too-easily happen when people hide from themselves.
I am curious about your daughter's statement that you are so good keeping in hard things. Did you ask her what that meant to her - or for an example of a hard thing you kept in? If it truly means you keep something in, what keeps it from exploding out? It was the explosions that stay with me in my family - and I do not recommend them. My feeling is that you compartmentalize rather than hide or keep anything in. In my opinion, that is a good and healthy way forward. Good and healthy sounds sooo like you...! 💕
I did have a short conversation with my daughter about it, but I could tell she got squirmy so I didn’t press. I believe that what she meant has something to do with my steadiness. That I can hold my own hard things, and hers, and her fathers, and the world’s, not in an unhealthy way (at least to her), but in a steady way. I’m sitting with that. I do want to model that steadiness for her without taking on the hard things FOR her. It’s a small, but important distinction for me.
Isn’t it interesting how what we don’t deal with never actually goes away. Instead, it finds its way into all of our relationships, into our progeny, into the way we carry ourselves in the world. I think that actually might be the more salient point I was trying to make, that even more so than my insistence that I carry my own hard things is my promise that I will deal with them.
This is so honest and vulnerable, Jess. There is so much emotion captured here - the anger and doubt and longing ... the love for both your mother and your daughter, the fear that you're "doing it wrong" when it comes to parenting ... your fierce commitment to doing your best. "Parenting is the hardest job you'll ever do" is an understatement. There is no help desk, no technical manual, no six-month course, and no guarantees. Each experience is unique, even though there is plenty of common ground from one mother to another. And then there's the fact that we each come to this enormous challenge carrying all the baggage of our own mother/daughter relationships, and all the expectations we've put on ourselves. It's no wonder we feel like collapsing under the weight of it all!
Thank you for sharing all of this. Your daughter's Mother's Day letter - oh, my heart! That would have sent me into a tailspin as well. I'm glad - based on some of your comments - that you and she talked it through, and all is well.
We think we're supposed to be teaching our daughters, but very often they end up teaching us. At least, that's been my experience. Pretty fucking amazing. xo
I swear having a daughter has been more educational than therapy, graduate school, and my 23-year career combined! She teaches me daily not just about myself but about who and how I want to show up in the world. Not only because she’s watching, but because other people are too, and I have something to offer them OTHER than just holding their hard shit. Thank you for sharing what came up and out for you upon reading this. It helps me tremendously to hear how or even if what I think is a complete unraveling on the page lands to someone else’s ears.
I really appreciated reading the truth in this story. One piece is your expression and honesty about the anger. I feel like so many women (of course) have this emotion circulating for so many good reasons, but disown it because our culture deems it unseemly and too potent for women (but not so for men- it's admirable fierce fuel unless it's violent). And there is also in this time such a veneration of jetting to a positive mindset at the expense of the slow train ride of being real and true BEFORE arriving at the magical helpful reframe. It sounds like you are in touch with many real things that are moving forward without bypassing. The second piece is about mothering. I also wrote about the complexity of this and Mother's Day yesterday, and the concept of overcorrecting and "do-overs." While I didn't include the full story of my mum there, your share touches on many experiences I also had with sweet Doris hiding things. I'd like to think it is so generational, but I am sure there are so many layers there... I so admire your awareness of what you are seeing and experiencing with your own very insightful daughter. Wow! Your awakeness and realness is a huge gift as a mother and role model for other women, even ones without children like me too! Can't wait to see you on the Slam- it's built for this story! :)
I so appreciate this reflection, Heidi, and I can't wait to read your piece on a similar topic. Doris and Nell, my mother, sound like they might have a lot in common. ;) I do think anger is NOT what you're supposed to feel when your mother is dying. I expected that if I brought it up to anyone besides my closest friends and husband, I would be placated with some assertion that I really should let it go and make peace with her before she died. That just wasn't possible for me, and while the extended anger wasn't healthy, it also wasn't unjustified, and I feel like its fair for us as women to be able to hold both. I'm sure my daughter will also need therapy, like all healthy humans, but I keep asking myself what I hope she's bring there with her, and the two things I keep coming back to are that her mother never lied to her and that she showed up. It's funny that one descended directly FROM my mom while the other is directly BECAUSE of her.
There is so much that your post prompts for me, Jess, but that would be my story and not yours. As I read yours, I am again heartened by the magnificent way you see your daughter and how you support her growth. In my thinking, that support is a gift you give your daughter that safely empowers her to move forward in her life. What a gift! Thank you for sharing this. I look forward to hearing more on the Slam...!
I would invite you to share, if you feel comfortable, what parts of your story this brought up for you. The most generative thing that could come of writing The Joy Luck Club, for me, is if it would spark conversation, reflection, and community, so GO! 😉🧡
Well, since you asked...! 😉You questioned what your mother kept from you and what she kept from herself. When I asked myself that question about my parents, I am convinced they kept it all from themselves. By "it" I am referring to their feelings of inferiority, the inappropriateness of so many of their actions and interactions, the manipulations. They both chose to keep their heads in the sand rather then engage in any self-reflection or, God forbid, therapy (though my mother dipped a toe in twice).
The book "Getting the Love You Want" by Harville Hendricks was so healing for me to read back in the day. My parents' story appeared on so many of its pages. In brief, they recreated in their marriage the exact dysfunctions they both grew up with. That's what can all-too-easily happen when people hide from themselves.
I am curious about your daughter's statement that you are so good keeping in hard things. Did you ask her what that meant to her - or for an example of a hard thing you kept in? If it truly means you keep something in, what keeps it from exploding out? It was the explosions that stay with me in my family - and I do not recommend them. My feeling is that you compartmentalize rather than hide or keep anything in. In my opinion, that is a good and healthy way forward. Good and healthy sounds sooo like you...! 💕
I did have a short conversation with my daughter about it, but I could tell she got squirmy so I didn’t press. I believe that what she meant has something to do with my steadiness. That I can hold my own hard things, and hers, and her fathers, and the world’s, not in an unhealthy way (at least to her), but in a steady way. I’m sitting with that. I do want to model that steadiness for her without taking on the hard things FOR her. It’s a small, but important distinction for me.
That sounds very wise.
Isn’t it interesting how what we don’t deal with never actually goes away. Instead, it finds its way into all of our relationships, into our progeny, into the way we carry ourselves in the world. I think that actually might be the more salient point I was trying to make, that even more so than my insistence that I carry my own hard things is my promise that I will deal with them.
YES!!! You will deal with them, and to the absolute best of your ability. And that is something sooo worth sharing!
And speaking of sharing, I believe that sharing the hard things is often more productive than carrying them on our own - if we are open to that. 😍
This is so honest and vulnerable, Jess. There is so much emotion captured here - the anger and doubt and longing ... the love for both your mother and your daughter, the fear that you're "doing it wrong" when it comes to parenting ... your fierce commitment to doing your best. "Parenting is the hardest job you'll ever do" is an understatement. There is no help desk, no technical manual, no six-month course, and no guarantees. Each experience is unique, even though there is plenty of common ground from one mother to another. And then there's the fact that we each come to this enormous challenge carrying all the baggage of our own mother/daughter relationships, and all the expectations we've put on ourselves. It's no wonder we feel like collapsing under the weight of it all!
Thank you for sharing all of this. Your daughter's Mother's Day letter - oh, my heart! That would have sent me into a tailspin as well. I'm glad - based on some of your comments - that you and she talked it through, and all is well.
We think we're supposed to be teaching our daughters, but very often they end up teaching us. At least, that's been my experience. Pretty fucking amazing. xo
I swear having a daughter has been more educational than therapy, graduate school, and my 23-year career combined! She teaches me daily not just about myself but about who and how I want to show up in the world. Not only because she’s watching, but because other people are too, and I have something to offer them OTHER than just holding their hard shit. Thank you for sharing what came up and out for you upon reading this. It helps me tremendously to hear how or even if what I think is a complete unraveling on the page lands to someone else’s ears.