Saturday 11 May 2013

On mothers and mothering

Today is Mother's Day. For weeks now, the shops have been full of merchandise and marketing, telling us to be thankful for our mothers, to celebrate them and the things they do for us. And of course, this is a joyful thing to do. But not for everyone.

Most of us grow up believing that mothering is an intuitive thing. You have a baby, and you are automatically granted 'mother' status. You will love this child, care for it, do the best for it, never stop loving it, and would fight for it unconditionally. Perhaps even give your life for it. But no, sadly, this is not the case.

Life is much nicer if we ignore the fact that some women are just not good at mothering. But it exists. And today, while many of us celebrate our mothers with love and joy, there will be children and adults who grieve. They grieve the lack of mother love in their lives, re-experience the trauma, past and present, that is a result of someone not mothering with intuitive care, skill, and consistency. Something that so many of us often take for granted. Our mothers have always been there. Loving us, protecting us, supporting us, sharing our lives with us. Mothering us.

It may seem foreign to try to imagine not mothering a child in this way. For me, it really does feel intuitive at times. At least the loving bit does. But I also feel lost in my mothering, and confused about what to do at times. In the end though, I find that love and it's consistency allows me to find my way. I think I learned this from my own wonderful mother.

So why do some women not feel the intuitive sense of mothering? Why do they make poor decisions, allow their children to suffer, disregard their needs, control or ignore them, or worst still, dis-own them? Perhaps these mothers didn't have good role models themselves, they didn't feel loved as children, or now other life circumstances prevent them from being able to carry out the kind of mothering they aspire to; illness, difficult or dysfunctional relationships, economics, and so on. It's not a straightforward answer I'm sure. Our world has a complexity like never before.

Some children I have worked with, who have not experienced intuitive mothering, who grieve the constancy of love and care from their mothers, often say "It would be easier if my mother was dead...". They imagine that this would allow them to package up their grief and trauma, and try to move forward in their lives. But it's not that easy.

There's a book written for children called "The Invisible String". It is a great tool to help young kids deal with separation anxiety as it explores the idea of constant connection between mothers and children, or between any two people who love one another. You can tug on this string and send your love all the way down the line to the other person. And when you feel their love in your heart, it means they have tugged on the string in return. This piece of string can go anywhere and everywhere, even to heaven, and it is stronger than anger. Nice in theory.

But I think in many ways this invisible string does exist. Unfortunately, for some children (and some mothers too) they keep tugging on that string, but struggle to feel the tug in return. For some, the string continues to be attached to their heart, even when it seems to be floating freely at the other end, unattached to the intended other. That's when instead of feeling the return tug and love in their heart, they feel pain and loss.

Today, I hope that for all those people who feel their mother-child invisible strings, not pulled taut with constant tugging, but loose and lost at the other end, they feel love and connection with others; fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, neighbours, teachers, or someone who lets them know they are loved. So that today, rather than being full of sadness, it can have moments of hope, kindness, and guiding experiences for how to mother one day themselves.

from: http://overthefencewithem.com/the-invisible-string/

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