Why Didn’t Mom Tell Me About That?

Growing Up, Wishing I Knew

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I look everywhere for them and can’t find them. Has someone torn them out, or were they never there?

Some pages from the mother-daughter guidebook are missing, along with some of the deeper conversations every daughter wants to have.

I know that mom skipped some of these valuable lessons herself. It’s not her fault, and it’s been years since I’ve gotten out of the blame game and victim mentality. She did the best she could with the resources available to her at the time. She had her own unresolved issues and fears. She was so blinded by pain that she often had no room to reach out to her own children.

But somewhere along the way, the mother-daughter dialogue stopped, and problems began to rear their ugly heads.

Disordered Eating Patterns

I was only 15 years old, and I started working out excessively. I lost a lot of weight in a relatively short period, which was anything but healthy for a teenage girl’s still developing body. My mother watched my relationship with my body change and never once intervened to warn me that what I was doing would affect me later in life.

Looking back on those years of my life, I am sure that I suffered from a severe case of eating disorder. The constant fear of gaining weight, of finishing everything on my plate — these are the early signs of someone struggling with body image.

The only thing my mother would say was, “You’re so obsessed with how you look.”

Given the serious implications of excessive weight loss during adolescence, a crucial opportunity to provide support and guidance — such as open and honest communication, encouragement of healthy eating habits and healthy body modelling — had been missed.

She started working out with me so that she, too, could lose weight. It’s one thing for a mother not to see the signs of your struggle, but it’s even more hurtful for her to join in the unhealthy behavior.

I have since taken steps to heal myself by making sure I eat balanced meals, get enough sleep and manage stress as best I can (as it tends to put me into ‘appetite loss’ mode straight away). I have never brought it up with my mom, though, mainly because she remembers a very different version of my teenage years. Maybe one day.

Learning to Love

Mom was consumed by her marital pain and often lost sight of the broader picture. She frequently involved me in her criticisms of my father, painting him as the villain. She unconsciously shaped my understanding of partnerships, leaving me with a distorted perception of what a healthy relationship means.

Whenever I turned to her for relationship advice, as daughters often do, she’d offer a dismissive, one-size-fits-all response: “Men are all the same.”

Thus, I grew up to be a young woman who believed that conflict and blame were normal and even desirable, with an eroded trust in men and authority figures. As a result, I couldn’t stay in relationships for very long — and I actively participated in the hook-up culture more than I should have.

We have both been in therapy since then, and her divorce from my father has allowed us to see relationships in a different light. We had honest conversations about how some of her actions had affected me as a young woman. She acknowledged how her distorted view of relationships (stemming from the way her own parents raised her) and the baggage she carried, made it difficult for her to communicate and resolve conflict in a healthy way.

I’m grateful that she opened her heart to

healing and inspired me to do the same.

Home, Work, and Balance

Mom was a stay-at-home-parent. She gave the impression that this was her only purpose in life, and that she had no goals or aspirations beyond cooking and cleaning. This later proved to be false, as she now has a full-time job and wants to start her own business. She is radiant and at her creative best, which is wonderful to see.

She never made a point of encouraging me to choose a domestic life over a career, or vice versa. But she hated her “stay at home” lifestyle so much that the message I inevitably received was: “Don’t cook or clean for your partner, it’s no fun”.

Needless to say, this led to all sorts of problems later on — and still does. My relationship with housework is so complicated that some days I dread even going near the sink to do the dishes. I’d much rather sit and write and focus on my career. But of course that’s not a healthy attitude to have. I can’t avoid the chores altogether, and I have to find a way to enjoy them.

My current relationship has taught me the value of sharing responsibilities. It’s possible for both partners to have successful careers while contributing equally to the household. We support each other’s ambitions and work together to maintain our home.

My relationship with my mother has changed a lot over the years. We are in a much better place, more empathetic, open and honest with each other. We are healing and growing, changing and redefining our dynamic for the better.

As children, we expect our parents to have all the answers, to be the perfect role models, to give us a strong foundation in life. I suppose in a dystopian society, that would always be the case. But in the real world, we’re imperfect human beings, and our parents had their own baggage to carry, their own traumas and fears that led them to make mistakes.

Having a “good” maternal role model is highly beneficial, but in my experience, it is not a prerequisite for a fulfilling and successful life. Role models can also be found in mentors, teachers, etc. The absence of a strong maternal figure can teach women to build resilience and independence.

Rewriting the mother-daughter narrative is part of my ongoing healing journey, and by sharing my experiences, I hope to inspire other women to break the cycle. It truly doesn’t matter whether you had the perfect mother-daughter bond or not, what matters is how you redefine it.

*Originally published on Medium.*