An Ode to Unexpected, Unseen, Untold Mothers
Mother’s Day just happened and I greeted many mothers a wonderful day, including myself. Here’s why:
I was my mother’s mother, and for some time, I was proud I could hold her in my arms the way her mother would never will, and in turn, I have forgotten I was her child as well. I mixed her instant black coffee and creamer just how she wanted, scooping myself a cup of instant coffee and heating the water instead of drinking milk. I told myself she would wake up one day and be okay enough to put me back into her cradle of comfort. Life had other plans.
Becoming a mother to my mother was a position I grew comfortable in – we were like best friends and we gossiped like my aunts – until she had forgotten I was her child as well; she was fully invested in a makeshift of a woman whom she longed to touch, to be seen with loving eyes, and to be told she would be alright. When I needed her the most, to be my mother, I couldn’t recognize the person who was in front of me.
So I blamed it all on me. I would be her child if I just knew how to cry, but the tears never came. If only I could throw a tantrum, she would hear my call for help, but my fists never crouched like her back on Sundays. Deep down, her hands felt like a stranger while I perished in my own fires.
It's bittersweet how in my suffering, losing my identity for her love, I would still hold her in my arms back then. An embrace is something I could easily give. However, it’s too much to fill the void her mother left her. I was only a kid and life happened to me. Turning away from this task was soul-crushing, mentally and physically painful, like any true healing work. The mental restructuring of my labyrinth was torturous – facing my lovelessness and looking at my own scars – yet it was the only way out of my misery.
"To recognize one's own insanity is, of course, the arising of sanity, the beginning of healing and transcendence." –Eckhart Tolle
After hours and days to months of tilting between grief and self-love, I learned the art of reparenting myself. The process looks different every time and I might explain it in another blog, but I became my own mother. Some days that mean being more compassionate to myself when I made a mistake. Some days that mean feeding myself good food when I haven’t eaten a solid meal for days.
If you find yourself relating to my story, this is your safe space. Celebrating the holiday is your choice! Our untold stories deserve a spotlight. And I wish I gave myself some flowers last Sunday. Hahaha.
Before this blogs ends, I want to say some affirmations to you, in case you forgot these already:
- You shouldn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
- You shouldn’t have to demand to be loved.
- You shouldn’t have to doubt that you are lovable.
- You are seen here. I see you!
- And I encourage you to keep going and seek help.
This healing work is not something I do on my own. There are my therapist, sisters, and best friends, and other found family.
If you need help in connecting with a mental health professional, here's a mental health directory and hotlines in the Philippines.
Happy Mother’s Day to you as well!
ᴬˡˡ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵘⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ.
My love, I have read each word you wrote here. I cannot fathom the hurt or the pain you went through, something I didn't witness but I feel deeply in your words. From being your mother's mother and now being a mother to your inner child might has indeed been a tough phase in your life but I see it as a beautiful journey you have to take - to grow, to learn, to evolve, to heal, and to love.
Know that
I see you,
I hear you,
I feel you.
Wish I could send you flowers too. Chat me your delivery address. 😉
Happy mother's day, love.
My loveeee nothing but gratitude for you! I miss you already 🤗
Let's continue to spread our light and love 😍
Punta na lang ako dyan sa inyo! Hahaha
Thank you for tagging me here, lovely @wesphilbin. 😁
Even though I've come across a great deal of adults who take care of their parents in my line of work, I never truly saw the perspective that the children eventually became parents to themselves, in your manner of thinking. This line of thought just made me ponder... the skills that your mother had instilled into you helped make you capable of doing your own brand of self-parenting - not to mention taking care of her like you were her mother. That just tells me that your mother did a heck of a great job during the time that she was able to take on that role, and that she would be very proud of the job she had done if she was in the state of mind to comprehend how you cared. I hope this thought also helps to brings you some type of comfort despite the difficulties you had to face in taking care of her and yourself.
I have no doubt that you know this, given your own line of work and experience as a mental health advocate, but if you ever need someone to personally talk with about a struggle, that's absolutely ok, and feel free to reach out to me for the support. We rely on each other to grow - we're programmed that way! And yes, you are very much worth it. 😊
Oh, and of course, Happy (slightly belated) Mother's Day!
If you’ve enjoyed the content of this comment, the compliment, are feeling down and need a shoulder to lean on, would like to make someone’s day a bit better, or found an interesting post you’d like to share that you believe deserves a compliment, please join the FreeCompliments community. We welcome everyone with open arms. :)
Thank you so much for this heartwarming comment! I was initially afraid of posting someone as personal as this, but you helped me overcome that 😊😍
I'm certainly glad that it did, if only for the fact that it helped you deal with the situation in a better way. Sometimes expressing yourself out into the wide open is the best outlet!