Belated Happy Birthday ! It breaks my heart when someone’s mother was unable to be there for them in the way they needed. A mother is our first relationship, and when that relationship is not loving or supportive, life can become so much harder.
You should be proud of yourself for not allowing what was missing from that relationship to define who you became.
Wow- I felt like I was reading my own story here….. made me tearful. I can 100% relate to growing up with actually 2, both emotionally immature and narcissistic parents. Parentification, emotional neglect, complex PTSD, all are my history. Mainly with my mom as my dad was not present. I am doing something similar in writing letters back to my younger self in order to heal my inner child. This is another aspect I should embrace as well- to write to myself now about how I see you or “me,” because I have become done with waiting for my mother to really see me. Thank you for this.
Heather, thanks so much for sharing and I’m sorry this has been your experience too. It can be so painful not to be seen and so hard to work through and untangle all the things you mention … parentification, emotional neglect, complex PTSD. It sounds like you’re doing the work but I know there are many layer and sometimes if can just feel like a lot to carry. It’s nice to know we’re not alone.
There’s something both sad and freeing in the realization at the center of this: sometimes we can spend decades waiting for someone to finally become capable of seeing us in the way we needed them to—and the harder truth may be accepting that they simply can’t.
You actually showed what beginning to give that recognition to yourself can look like. Not some vague “love yourself” instruction, but: I see this. I see what you survived. I see how you showed up. I see what you changed. I see who you’re becoming.
And I especially appreciate that you still leave room for being seen by other people. Learning to see ourselves doesn’t mean deciding we no longer need connection. Sometimes another person reflecting us accurately can help us recognize things we’ve never been able to name on our own.
Please keep creating work like this—where you take a difficult emotional realization and turn it into something a reader can actually practice. The journaling invitation makes this more than a story about your healing; it gives somebody else a doorway into their own. ❤️
Hi Jay, thanks for your reflections! It's so true that learning to see ourselves doesn't mean we're deciding we no longer need connection. It's just deciding that we're no longer willing to waste years of our life waiting for connection from someone who can't give it to us. And then there's the people who CAN give it to us. The people who see us when we can't see ourselves and who remind us of the strength, gifts and beauty that's inside us. Those people are treasures. And those are the people I'm choosing to pour my love and energy into from this point moving forward. I'm blessed to have many of them in my life and grateful to have finally reached the tipping point with my mom, where I can say "no more", as painful as it is.
I think that may be one of the hardest lessons we learn: accepting that loving someone doesn’t obligate us to spend our lives waiting for them to become capable of giving us what they simply can’t.
And you’re right—the people who can see us, especially when we’ve temporarily lost sight of ourselves, are treasures. Those are relationships worth protecting and pouring ourselves into.
I’m sorry that reaching this point with your mom has been painful. You can grieve even a decision you know you need to make. But I’m glad you have people around you who remind you of your strength, your gifts, and your worth when you need it most. ❤️
Thanks Jay! Yes, one thing I’m learning in this phase of life is the amount of grief that comes with letting go of things (and people) - even the ones we know aren’t good for us.
Sometimes grief isn’t a sign that we made the wrong choice. It’s simply the price of acknowledging that something mattered to us, even if it could no longer remain in our lives.
We can grieve what was, what we hoped it might become, and even the version of ourselves that kept trying to make it work.
Letting go can be both heartbreaking and healthy at the same time. 🫶
fellow 1983 baby here!! love this idea of a letter to yourself, in the present. we often hear about writing to our past or future selves, but this is important work too. hope you had the happiest birthday!! 🎉
Happy belated birthday! We must have the same mother. I surrendered control and set up boundaries with her when I turned 50. 💗 Life taught me the only person I could change was myself.
Likewise Jessie! Many think I should get over it and forgive my (emotionally immature) mother. Every interaction exposes an old wound. It’s something I expect now, so I limit interactions. “But your mother is so wonderful…🙃” they say.
Writing my book helped me unravel it. You’re right that I should celebrate my successes
I resonated with everything you said. It helps to know I’m not alone. ❤️
Sometimes self preservation needs to be the priority. I can relate to forgiveness through the perspective of freeing myself from the mental anguish because I think holding on to anger can be damaging for the person holding it. I know it has been for me. But forgiveness as well as acceptance (another one I hear a lot) doesn’t mean continuing to let the person gaslight you or treat you poorly. If they are incapable of self reflection, empathy, or taking any responsibility, we can accept that as reality and set up boundaries to protect ourselves. Yes, they can keep being them, but that means we are not going to have a relationship, or at least not the same relationship as we had before. That’s so great you wrote a book to help you unravel it all. I’m sure it will help others too!
Ohmygosh, Kristen, "But your mother is so wonderful..." i hear that so so so much. And she is, in lots of ways, but she cannot see me. My niece (technically half-niece) just asked me to tell her what her Nana (my mom) was like when I was young and I'm not sure what to tell her. I know I don't want to tell her my whole truth, because she has a great relationship with my mom, but I also respect this young woman very much and I don't want to lie to her either. (Side note, I didn't know about my half sister until I was in my mid 30s and I'm 53 now)
Jocelyn, I completely understand not knowing what to say while being respectful. I maintained the same composure with my own four children. It was ironic (and very validating) when they shared their frustrations with Grandma as teens. I'm 53 next month. Took me 50 years to come to terms with acceptance—and most importantly, boundaries!
Oh wow. You know, you just changed my life a little. It never occurred to me that other people in her life might be frustrated with her also. I'm so used to it all being my fault or up to me. Thank you so much for sharing that! And yes, boundaries are vital. I'm just now learning that I don't have to be the one that makes everything okay for her. And it sounds terrible, but I am honestly so much less stressed out the less I talk to her.
Yes, less stress is good. My mother takes my nervous system to a whole other level without boundaries. I'm glad to hear my comment may have helped you. I didn't go through all of this for nothing!
As soon as you said you mom can't see you, I was in. I love your letter to yourself. I was in my late 40s before I realized my mom could never give me what I needed from her. Partly because she can't, and partly because what I need (ed) from her was to be there for me when I was young. It was a long road to get to the place I am now, where I no longer keep trying to be the good-enough daughter so she'll give me what I need. I can now grieve what I didn't have, and at the same time, learn how to give myself what I need (things like your letter help!). Thank you for sharing this, there are so many of us out there whose mothers couldn't see us. xo
Wow, I've spent my life trying to be the good-enough daughter so she'll give me what I need. You're so welcome, sharing this is a gift to myself as well because it helps me feel less alone when people like you share that you can relate. 🫶
I totally get that. It's one of the reasons we write and share it all here, isn't it? So we're not alone and so others don't feel alone either. How fabulous is that. ♥️
Wow, this speaks to my heart. 💘
Writing that letter must have been deeply healing for you. 💚✨️
I hope you had a lovely birthday. I was a 1983 baby too! 😘
Oh I love hearing that we were both born in the same year!
Belated Happy Birthday ! It breaks my heart when someone’s mother was unable to be there for them in the way they needed. A mother is our first relationship, and when that relationship is not loving or supportive, life can become so much harder.
You should be proud of yourself for not allowing what was missing from that relationship to define who you became.
Thank you so much for your kind words! 💕
Wow- I felt like I was reading my own story here….. made me tearful. I can 100% relate to growing up with actually 2, both emotionally immature and narcissistic parents. Parentification, emotional neglect, complex PTSD, all are my history. Mainly with my mom as my dad was not present. I am doing something similar in writing letters back to my younger self in order to heal my inner child. This is another aspect I should embrace as well- to write to myself now about how I see you or “me,” because I have become done with waiting for my mother to really see me. Thank you for this.
Heather, thanks so much for sharing and I’m sorry this has been your experience too. It can be so painful not to be seen and so hard to work through and untangle all the things you mention … parentification, emotional neglect, complex PTSD. It sounds like you’re doing the work but I know there are many layer and sometimes if can just feel like a lot to carry. It’s nice to know we’re not alone.
Yes, it is nice to meet others going through the same processing and healing.
There’s something both sad and freeing in the realization at the center of this: sometimes we can spend decades waiting for someone to finally become capable of seeing us in the way we needed them to—and the harder truth may be accepting that they simply can’t.
You actually showed what beginning to give that recognition to yourself can look like. Not some vague “love yourself” instruction, but: I see this. I see what you survived. I see how you showed up. I see what you changed. I see who you’re becoming.
And I especially appreciate that you still leave room for being seen by other people. Learning to see ourselves doesn’t mean deciding we no longer need connection. Sometimes another person reflecting us accurately can help us recognize things we’ve never been able to name on our own.
Please keep creating work like this—where you take a difficult emotional realization and turn it into something a reader can actually practice. The journaling invitation makes this more than a story about your healing; it gives somebody else a doorway into their own. ❤️
Hi Jay, thanks for your reflections! It's so true that learning to see ourselves doesn't mean we're deciding we no longer need connection. It's just deciding that we're no longer willing to waste years of our life waiting for connection from someone who can't give it to us. And then there's the people who CAN give it to us. The people who see us when we can't see ourselves and who remind us of the strength, gifts and beauty that's inside us. Those people are treasures. And those are the people I'm choosing to pour my love and energy into from this point moving forward. I'm blessed to have many of them in my life and grateful to have finally reached the tipping point with my mom, where I can say "no more", as painful as it is.
Jessie, this is beautifully said. ❤️
I think that may be one of the hardest lessons we learn: accepting that loving someone doesn’t obligate us to spend our lives waiting for them to become capable of giving us what they simply can’t.
And you’re right—the people who can see us, especially when we’ve temporarily lost sight of ourselves, are treasures. Those are relationships worth protecting and pouring ourselves into.
I’m sorry that reaching this point with your mom has been painful. You can grieve even a decision you know you need to make. But I’m glad you have people around you who remind you of your strength, your gifts, and your worth when you need it most. ❤️
Thanks Jay! Yes, one thing I’m learning in this phase of life is the amount of grief that comes with letting go of things (and people) - even the ones we know aren’t good for us.
Exactly. ❤️
Sometimes grief isn’t a sign that we made the wrong choice. It’s simply the price of acknowledging that something mattered to us, even if it could no longer remain in our lives.
We can grieve what was, what we hoped it might become, and even the version of ourselves that kept trying to make it work.
Letting go can be both heartbreaking and healthy at the same time. 🫶
fellow 1983 baby here!! love this idea of a letter to yourself, in the present. we often hear about writing to our past or future selves, but this is important work too. hope you had the happiest birthday!! 🎉
Thanks Paige! So fun to know we were both born in 1983! 🎉
Happy belated birthday! We must have the same mother. I surrendered control and set up boundaries with her when I turned 50. 💗 Life taught me the only person I could change was myself.
Thanks Kristen! It’s comforting to know that you get it.
Likewise Jessie! Many think I should get over it and forgive my (emotionally immature) mother. Every interaction exposes an old wound. It’s something I expect now, so I limit interactions. “But your mother is so wonderful…🙃” they say.
Writing my book helped me unravel it. You’re right that I should celebrate my successes
I resonated with everything you said. It helps to know I’m not alone. ❤️
Sometimes self preservation needs to be the priority. I can relate to forgiveness through the perspective of freeing myself from the mental anguish because I think holding on to anger can be damaging for the person holding it. I know it has been for me. But forgiveness as well as acceptance (another one I hear a lot) doesn’t mean continuing to let the person gaslight you or treat you poorly. If they are incapable of self reflection, empathy, or taking any responsibility, we can accept that as reality and set up boundaries to protect ourselves. Yes, they can keep being them, but that means we are not going to have a relationship, or at least not the same relationship as we had before. That’s so great you wrote a book to help you unravel it all. I’m sure it will help others too!
Ohmygosh, Kristen, "But your mother is so wonderful..." i hear that so so so much. And she is, in lots of ways, but she cannot see me. My niece (technically half-niece) just asked me to tell her what her Nana (my mom) was like when I was young and I'm not sure what to tell her. I know I don't want to tell her my whole truth, because she has a great relationship with my mom, but I also respect this young woman very much and I don't want to lie to her either. (Side note, I didn't know about my half sister until I was in my mid 30s and I'm 53 now)
Jocelyn, I completely understand not knowing what to say while being respectful. I maintained the same composure with my own four children. It was ironic (and very validating) when they shared their frustrations with Grandma as teens. I'm 53 next month. Took me 50 years to come to terms with acceptance—and most importantly, boundaries!
Oh wow. You know, you just changed my life a little. It never occurred to me that other people in her life might be frustrated with her also. I'm so used to it all being my fault or up to me. Thank you so much for sharing that! And yes, boundaries are vital. I'm just now learning that I don't have to be the one that makes everything okay for her. And it sounds terrible, but I am honestly so much less stressed out the less I talk to her.
Yes, less stress is good. My mother takes my nervous system to a whole other level without boundaries. I'm glad to hear my comment may have helped you. I didn't go through all of this for nothing!
Beautifully written, I love your letter 💗 And Happy belated birthday!
Thanks so much Megan!
As soon as you said you mom can't see you, I was in. I love your letter to yourself. I was in my late 40s before I realized my mom could never give me what I needed from her. Partly because she can't, and partly because what I need (ed) from her was to be there for me when I was young. It was a long road to get to the place I am now, where I no longer keep trying to be the good-enough daughter so she'll give me what I need. I can now grieve what I didn't have, and at the same time, learn how to give myself what I need (things like your letter help!). Thank you for sharing this, there are so many of us out there whose mothers couldn't see us. xo
Wow, I've spent my life trying to be the good-enough daughter so she'll give me what I need. You're so welcome, sharing this is a gift to myself as well because it helps me feel less alone when people like you share that you can relate. 🫶
I totally get that. It's one of the reasons we write and share it all here, isn't it? So we're not alone and so others don't feel alone either. How fabulous is that. ♥️
Absolutely it is! So fabulous!