Let's Be Honest: Exploring Mother/Daughter Relationships
Part I of a series exploring motherhood and how religious teachings have torn at the fabric of healthy mother/daughter relationships.
Since publishing Brave six years ago, I cannot possibly estimate how many conversations I have had with women who are daughters (obvious fact) and mothers. The women’s ages ranged from young adults to my generation of more mature women. The most obvious insight from these conversations is how pivotal the caretaking role—usually mothers—is in the future mental health of daughters.
Whenever I discuss mothers—my own or other’s—just about every mother seems to feel a jab of regret. Why is that? I have explored this with women and realized that any critique of motherhood almost always feels personal.
The reactions to any critique of motherhood range from highly offended to highly remorseful. I have observed that this has little to do with the actual quality of their mothering and often those who did so much right have the most guilt as they too often focus on what they did wrong.
In the following quote from my second book, Jeannie’s Brave Childhood, I address the fact that “good enough” mothering does not require being perfect!
D.W. Winnicott coined the phrase, “good enough mother” in his book, Playing and Reality. An important aspect of this mother was that her entire devotion to the infant slowly tapered in a way that increased the child’s ability to self soothe and regulate. This secure foundation of met needs via a devoted relationship allows the child to successfully navigate future frustrations.
Winnicott’s work, published in 1971, is in stark contrast to Behaviorism which told mothers to train infants to be on their schedule. Being a “good enough mother,” as described by Winnicott, is simply good mothering—not some form of “perfect” mothering in which the parent feels in control of the child.
Please know that I was not a perfect mother nor do I expect it of others. What is difficult is how far the mark is missed in so many of the stories I hear. The following stories are adapted from those shared with me in conversations. Just as I did in Trauma in the Pews, I only include a story if a similar story has been shared by at least two people and therefore no story belongs to any particular person. I have created/chosen the names and all details have been changed.
The following may be dysregulating (triggering).
If so, set it aside and realize that your body is giving you a clue
that there are memories that need healing. Please seek professional help.
See: Finding a Therapist
Liz has been healing from childhood trauma and realizes how her unhealed trauma affected her ability to be present for her children. She has apologized to her children but cannot help but feel guilt about the ways they were impacted.
Esther found it necessary to go no contact with her mother because of the constant diminishment of her healing process from the sexual abuse she experienced as a child. “My mother still denies that it happened to me.”
Michala’s parents sent her to a conversion therapy program as a teenager when she told them she was gay. “I still have so much shame from my time in the program. My father is adamant that my mother is to have no contact with me now, but she sometimes sends me a message when there is news in the family. Otherwise, there is no contact.”
Sarah spent significant time in therapy before she could accept that her mother was physically abusive to her. “I thought I deserved what she did to me, but no child ever deserves being beaten or locked in a dark closet to consider her sins.”
Ashley said, “I never told anyone what it was like at home. My father was a deacon in the church and my mother knew he was abusing me. There were so many Sunday school lessons about honoring your parents that telling anyone felt more wrong than what was happening to me.”
Meredith regrets that she bought into the idea of tough love and cut ties with her daughter who was struggling. “I know I needed to set boundaries, but what I did felt like abandonment to her and only made things worse.”
The stories could go on and on. Alongside these tragic stories, there are stories of restored relationships. Alexandria told me that she had read the book, What Happened to You by Dr. Bruce Perry and Oprah Winfrey, and was so grateful for all she learned that she gave a copy to her mother. She said her mother had briefly mentioned that she had a difficult childhood but had never said much more. A few weeks later, her mother called her and said, “Can you come over? I have been reading that book you gave me and I think I have some things I need to share with you.” What courage!
As a result of their conversation and what her mother shared, Alexandria came to understand her own story better. Her mother agreed to make an appointment with a therapist and they continued to have conversations. What had been a relationship fraught with misunderstandings was now being transformed. I wish every story ended like this one did—it could, but sadly, it is far too rare.
The work I have done to walk alongside those who are healing tells me that it is possible to repair relationships when both mother and daughter are willing to devote time to learning about the impact of trauma, heal from their childhood wounds, and initiate conversations (sometimes with a therapist’s help). Since most who follow my work have been part of faith communities, what was taught about parenting in many of those communities has both caused the rift between mothers and daughters and then stands in the way of healing and restoring those relationships.
During the next few weeks, I will be exploring some of the religious teachings that have caused a rift in mother/daughter relationships. In a cursory search of Christian resources on this topic, I found most to be lacking in information about generational patterns, early attachment relationships, the impact of trauma. Both mothers and daughters need this information to restore relationships—or to understand why it it may not be possible.
I will always wonder if my very damaged relationship with my mother could have included an honest conversation about the impact of trauma on both of us if I had understood this before she died. The powerful influence of church teachings to honor parents likely would have kept me from ever accessing help to unwind my story. It certainly would have kept me from writing this newsletter to encourage us all to begin to have honest conversations about our mother/daughter stories.
Thank you Janyne for your practical focus on a topic that is difficult for many!