Healing the Mother Wound: Love is Attention?
Have you ever watched a movie that struck a chord deep within you, where you had a moment mid - film of the profundity you just witnessed and heard? This past weekend, I experienced that with “Lady Bird,” a coming-of-age film about a gutsy teen navigating the complexities of her relationship with her mother.
As I watched, I saw echoes of my own life reflected on screen. My relationship with my mother was a beautiful paradox: I felt deeply loved yet equally very hurt by her. It’s a familiar dance for many of us, where affection intertwines with pain, creating a tapestry of mixed and often very confusing emotions.
In “Lady Bird,” the protagonist seeks comfort and acceptance from her mother but often encounters distance and anger - a dynamic that resonates all too well with my childhood. My mother’s attention often came in the form of practical support — the learning of times-tables, endless school uniform shopping, swimming classes (which I hated) and ballet lessons (which I also hated) and attention that often felt very heavy and laden with guilt.
My mother would often tell me how much I cost her and that I was ungrateful for it. This bit in the movie, below, resonated so much it brought a wave of sadness up from my heart and reminded me of when I too, was so angry and resentful at the critical behaviour of my mother that I ran away to my aunties and was promptly and unceremoniously delivered back home the next day.
The movie is powerful because it also shows the mother’s perspective as well as the daughters: The mother worked double shifts to support the family since the father suffered from depression and job loss.
My mum struggled financially to make ends meet and whilst she poured her heart into ensuring I had material things and opportunities she never had, she was battling her own fears and insecurities which unfortunately got projected onto me. Her down-time was escape from life in the form of alcohol and her attention, her presence, her love, the way I wanted it, was just not possible.
The ‘love’ from my mum was tinged with a sense of fear—I felt a vulnerability in my mother that made me feel queasy - I felt her fears and I saw her own feelings of inadequacy. In turn, I felt I always had to prove myself. I was never smart enough, slim enough, or confident enough in her eyes due to the constant comparisons she made with other children and that weight became a part of my own narrative for the most part of my life thus far.
I loved my mum immensely, I still do, and I felt such a deep love from her also, so much so it also sometimes felt too much to handle, like a burden I couldn’t carry…
Perhaps the truth of it is, I felt responsible for her happiness.
Maybe you can relate?
This scene above made me ponder on the attention that was given to me by my mother and that from her perspective, it was love. It was what she understood from her journey, from her childhood, from her experience of being ‘mothered.’
Never the less, it has also been vital on my own healing journey to speak of the pain I felt at her hands as a result of her untended-to-wounds, which I also hasten to add, my mother had no understanding of or time, at that time, to heal.
“Attention is love”
So, now I come to you - what love, what attention did you receive from your mother? What did she teach you about yourself through your witnessing of her life up close? How did she care for herself? And how did this teach you to love and give attention to yourself?
Pondering on, reflecting and understanding these dynamics is crucial because we often inherit the emotional legacies of our parents. I am my mother’s daughter, and while I recognise the love she intended, I also lived through the confusion and turbulance it caused.
To heal the Mother Wound, we must shift the focus inward and cultivate our power and love from there.
What attention do you give yourself? How do you speak to yourself? How are you meeting your own needs? How do you soothe yourself when distressed? How present are you with your own emotions?
These questions are vital as we navigate our healing journeys.
It’s never too late to learn to mother ourselves. Perhaps now is the perfect moment to start. By cultivating self - compassion and self - acceptance, we can untangle the complexities of our past and create a new narrative - one filled with a love and attention that doesn’t wound and confuse, but heals and transforms.
How are you learning to heal your own mother wound? Remember, you are not alone in this, Sarah xxx