I found a note to myself in my old mailbox from 2004 that read: I was mad at J this morning when I tried to wake her up and she shoved me away. It was like she had a struck at my scarred, wounded heart - again. Sometimes I credit her with more wisdom than she has True, she is wise but there is also in her a frolicsome little child. She wants to play mindless games with me. I err in thinking them to be mindful and punish her for it. And after I do, I regret my haste to conclude.
The more things change the more the remain the same. Only a few weeks ago, I experienced the same wounded feeling because J was busy for days on end with work and personal life and unresponsive to my messages. What was true back then is true now as well - there was no intent to her behavior, least of all intent to hurt me. That morning like many others, she wanted to sleep in some more and was unhappy I was trying to wake her up - she acted reflexively, not to reject me as a mother.
That was me hyperbolizing the situation fed by the insecurities of being a single-mother trying to do my best and always falling short. Today when she gets immersed in her own life as a young woman starting out in her career and living independently, it has nothing to do with "hurting" me. I am destined to feel like an inadequate mother no matter what. There is nothing J could do about it as a child and nothing she can do now as an adult. No one can prop another person up if they lack self-assurance in the work they have done, the work that cannot be undone for better or worse.
Comments