Mother Dearest: Navigating difficult mothers and intergenerational family trauma 👩‍👧

"I am trying to heal from the trauma she bestowed upon me from her childhood experiences."

Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

Author’s note: Hey everyone. I’m not sure if any of you noticed but you didn’t receive a newsletter last week. I haven’t been feeling like myself and it’s been hard for me to find the motivation to write. I’m currently trying to navigate feelings of sadness and loneliness. I do apologize for not getting you guys a newsletter last week.

Before we start, I want to give you all a heads up before you begin reading. This week’s newsletter mentions suicide, violence, verbal abuse, etc. This is a trigger warning. Please do not read any further if you are highly uncomfortable with the topics mentioned above. I want you all to feel safe here. This is a much longer piece. I hope it makes up for last week. Please give it a slow read. It’s a lot to digest.

I recently read this article by The Atlantic, which focuses on trauma writing and why we should dive more into it. Like many people, my trauma stems from my complex relationship with family members.

Music I'm listening to: Keep Ya Head Up by Tupac (especially with the recent Roe v. Wade news, listen to or look up the lyrics and you'll see what I'm talking about) 

Last week, we explored emotional intimacy and vulnerability in a partner or significant other. Today’s topic will focus on the difficult relationship between my mother and me and how I’m navigating family trauma.

Trauma. noun. A response to a deeply distressing or disturbing event that overwhelms an individual’s ability to cope causes feelings of helplessness, and diminishes their sense of self and their ability to feel a full range of emotions and experiences. 

Intergenerational trauma refers to trauma that is passed from a trauma survivor to their descendants. It can also be referred to as transgenerational or multigenerational trauma.

My mother is a complicated woman. She is a control freak by nature and her mood changes with the wind when something doesn’t go her way. She can easily become triggered by changes that do not align with her expectations, wants, or needs. Unfortunately, I have been on the receiving end of those mood swings which has caused us to clash. A lot.

My mother was the only sister (out of 3) to graduate from college. My grandpa (her father) was an army man. My grandmother was a housewife. The relationship between my mother and her father would set the stage for what would similarly mirror the relationship between her and me. To keep it short, my grandfather was a “rollin’ stone.” He had multiple affairs with different women while my mother and my aunts were growing up. I’ve heard stories from my aunts of women driving by their house to instigate and cause problems for my grandmother. This also happened when they attended church.

One of the worst stories I’ve ever heard is when my grandpa hit my grandmother on the head with a brick when they were arguing. This caused my mother to step in and defend my grandmother. Back then and even now, challenging your parent would result in a slap to the face (black community, y’all know what I’m talking about). And so that’s what happened. My grandpa slapped my mother but she never wavered or cried. In the black community and many other cultures, it is still seen as disrespectful to challenge your parents or family guardian. (This is an important point we will come back to.)

It was later discovered that my grandpa fathered other children with different women while he was with my grandmother. When my mother and aunts discuss these stories amongst themselves, I can hear the resentment, sadness, and pain in their voices as they reflect on the dark memories of their childhood. Unfaithfulness, betrayal, and heartache in their parents’ relationship haunt them.

I write all of this to lay out the groundwork for you all to (try) to understand the complicated relationship dynamic between my mother and me, and how generational family trauma is passed down the line.

I am an only child. My parents divorced when I was very young. Why? All I know is that they didn’t get along. That’s what all the adults told me when I was a kid. But no one ever really explained the build-up and what went down. I’ve heard from other family members that my dad didn’t want to help pay the bills since he was living with my mom at the time and so that frustrated my mom, especially since they had a child together. I don’t remember everything and honestly, I don’t want to. Maybe that’s the trauma speaking for me. But what I do remember, is a screaming match ensued between my parents one night, resulting in my father leaving with the police. He wasn’t arrested. He just got his stuff and left. One of my aunts had called the police on him.

My father didn’t call until many years later and then suddenly he decided he wanted to call and see me. Not only that, but he wanted custody of me which created a full-out war between him and my mother.

The court sided with him and I was forced to see my father on Saturdays. I hated it. He lived in a very rural community and only brought me to his house to sit and watch TV. If he had the money, he would take me to Borders or Barnes and Noble to buy a couple of books to read. The nights before I would go see my father, I would strategically stay up all night so I would be extremely exhausted the next day. This way, I wouldn’t have to interact with him much and I could just sleep all day until it was time for him to drive me back to my mom’s job.

I spent years hearing my mother badmouth my father. And it affected how I viewed him. I believed her when she said he didn’t do much for me or he was this or that. It was true that she had to step up and be both parents. While she was single. That isn’t easy and so I understand why she was bitter. But also, it’s not fair for her to implant her personal feelings in a child’s head. And when she did this, it felt like she wanted me to “side” with her. So I will admit: I didn’t really like my father for a long time and I still struggle to be warm toward him. Our relationship is strained. But I’m working on it and that’s all I can do.

Middle school and high school were hell for me. I was growing up and my mother and I were always arguing and fighting. There were times when she would hit me and I didn’t think I deserved it so I fought or yelled back. One morning, she tried to lunge at me and I dodged her attack and she fell. I tried to help her up but she swatted me away and blamed me for the fall.

My mother’s favorite words to call me when she’s angry are “disrespectful,” “disobedient” and “unruly.” For my close friends and mentors reading this, I know you’re all thinking “Disobedient?” “Disrespectful?!” Trust me, I am none of those things but I don’t have a problem standing up for myself. In the same way, my mother stood up to her father, I’m standing up to her. My mother has become her father. Do you see how this works? This is how generational family trauma is born and passed down the lineage.

Here is my observation about controlling parents. When they can’t control you or force you to do something, they call you disobedient, disrespectful, and unruly. When you challenge them and push back, they call you disobedient, disrespectful, and unruly. They gaslight you and will have you doubting yourself and thinking “maybe, I am all of those things.” It’s a lose-lose situation. Parents can teach their children to be strong and stand up for themselves, as my mother has taught me. But most of the time? They are never prepared for their children to stand up to them.

A hard truth I’m coming to terms with: I am trying to heal from the trauma she bestowed upon me from her childhood experiences. It’s not personal, but I don’t have to suffer because of it, either.

My mother assured me she would send me to boarding school or camps for misbehaving teens if I didn’t behave (the way she wanted me to). There were times our fights got so bad I ran away from home.

One moment in particular lives in the back of my mind. It was a late afternoon and my mom was teaching me how to drive (I was in high school at the time). She was screaming directions at me and I snapped and told her to stop yelling at me because it was frustrating me even more than the driving was. She screamed at me to get out of her “fucking car.” A car she had bought for me. When she’s angry, she likes to throw it in my face what she has paid for. It’s a power move.

Another observation: When controlling people buy you gifts, it’s never truly yours. Because they will always remind you that they paid for or got it for you to make sure you remember who provided it. 

Heated, I got out of the car and she got into the driver’s seat. I watched her drive off, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere as the sun started to set. It was around 11:00 pm before I would be picked up by my aunt and cousin, who had been searching for me all night. My mother’s partner told them what happened and they went out to search for me.

My mother’s controlling behavior has only gotten worse over the years. The exhaustion of it all became too much. I remember trying to drown myself in the bathtub during my teen years. Her loud and aggressive bangs on the bathroom door stopped me.

I wrote suicide letters and then quickly discarded them, knowing I wasn’t going to go through with it. At that time, anything would have been better than living with a tyrant. You might be wondering “Why didn’t you go to a family member for help?” I did. I told my aunt I felt like I was drowning and suffocating from my mom’s actions and her response was “Why can’t you save yourself?” That comment made me realize there wasn’t anyone in my corner who I could turn to.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that sometimes you have to love someone from a distance. Our relationship is better when we aren’t under the same roof. When I’m at her house, that is her territory. So, she can do and say as she pleases and tells me to leave if she wants. In DC, I am safe. I have my own safe space. I can easily get off a phone call with her if I feel like she’s becoming hostile.

Make no mistake, I love my mother. She has raised me to be strong and resilient. I’ve been able to travel the world and take on many opportunities because of her support but loving her can be difficult when she lashes out at me the way she does. I’ve talked to her about seeing a therapist about the struggles she keeps bottled up. After many years, she finally decided to give it a try which is a small victory in my book.

My goal is to work on myself so I don’t become like her or my grandfather. This breaks the cycle of generational trauma. There is a lot more I could add to this but I will end it here for now. Writing this particular newsletter was a little draining for me but I hope it made you think about your own family structure.

Please leave a comment below! (No one has left a comment yet and I really want to know everyone’s thoughts/feelings on this topic. Families can be super difficult.)