Mothers
A lot of us feel we didn't get the mothers or the mothering we deserved. That is fair to feel. We probably didn't. But we did our best as mother's of our own kids, right? So it must be fair to assume that they did their best too.
I know I was mad at my mom for years. I even did cruel things to myself just to punish her on some subconscious level. Drugs, alcohol, promiscuity was all a form of rebellion to get back at my mom who had been so unjust to me.
She did me the ultimate unjust. She didn't love me.
I don't know if that is entirely true or not but she had postpartum depression or something of the sort when I was just newly born. It didn't kick in months or weeks later like it does some mothers. She had it the minute I was born and maybe even before that.
Did we ever bond the moment I came into the scene? I don't know but I know on a cellular level I felt her sadness. I took it on to ease her pain maybe. And I felt unloved and cared for because she wasn't loving me. She was sad. She felt alone I found out years later, unsupported which triggered her sadness. Fair enough. But for a newborn were those my concerns. No. They couldn't have been. All I needed was love, care, attention, reinforcement. I never got those things. I had to grow up too soon.
By 2 years old or even younger I was trying to run away. I knew this person couldn't take care of me and I felt I had it in me to take care of myself. I became or told myself I need to be fiercely independent, just to survive. I heard horror stories of my mom's level of caring for me. Not changing diapers, leaving my butt rashed and raw, Disciplining me by putting me up in closets where I couldn't get down.
Why am I rehashing this? Perhaps to have a record. A visual record so perhaps I can let it go, move on once and for awhile. Perhaps for people to know what happened so when I acheive the greatness I am capable of I can say "look, I overcame this, so can you". I know I am capable of this because so far I have come SO FAR.
I mean I used to drink, blah, blah, blah, you name it.
I have a beautiful son named Kala now, whom I love to the moon and back. He is the angel of my life. Things come up about my mom and I wonder, how did she treat me when she breastfeed me, or when I stared into her eyes trustingly, lovingly, the way Kala does with me. Did she love me, the way I love him.
My heart is open since having my son. Wide open. He opened my heart. And I can't help but feel, for all children, for myself, for mothers, for the planet and all that is happening, for everyone. We are all God's children at the end of the day and as a manifestation of divine mother, I feel. I feel profoundly. As a mother myself with a child, I feel.
A river is fluid and clear. It moves, it does not stagnate. It is always clear and fresh. It does't hang on. It changes,
So that's what I can say right now and not get too emotional about it,
Love you.
I know I was mad at my mom for years. I even did cruel things to myself just to punish her on some subconscious level. Drugs, alcohol, promiscuity was all a form of rebellion to get back at my mom who had been so unjust to me.
She did me the ultimate unjust. She didn't love me.
I don't know if that is entirely true or not but she had postpartum depression or something of the sort when I was just newly born. It didn't kick in months or weeks later like it does some mothers. She had it the minute I was born and maybe even before that.
Did we ever bond the moment I came into the scene? I don't know but I know on a cellular level I felt her sadness. I took it on to ease her pain maybe. And I felt unloved and cared for because she wasn't loving me. She was sad. She felt alone I found out years later, unsupported which triggered her sadness. Fair enough. But for a newborn were those my concerns. No. They couldn't have been. All I needed was love, care, attention, reinforcement. I never got those things. I had to grow up too soon.
By 2 years old or even younger I was trying to run away. I knew this person couldn't take care of me and I felt I had it in me to take care of myself. I became or told myself I need to be fiercely independent, just to survive. I heard horror stories of my mom's level of caring for me. Not changing diapers, leaving my butt rashed and raw, Disciplining me by putting me up in closets where I couldn't get down.
Why am I rehashing this? Perhaps to have a record. A visual record so perhaps I can let it go, move on once and for awhile. Perhaps for people to know what happened so when I acheive the greatness I am capable of I can say "look, I overcame this, so can you". I know I am capable of this because so far I have come SO FAR.
I mean I used to drink, blah, blah, blah, you name it.
I have a beautiful son named Kala now, whom I love to the moon and back. He is the angel of my life. Things come up about my mom and I wonder, how did she treat me when she breastfeed me, or when I stared into her eyes trustingly, lovingly, the way Kala does with me. Did she love me, the way I love him.
My heart is open since having my son. Wide open. He opened my heart. And I can't help but feel, for all children, for myself, for mothers, for the planet and all that is happening, for everyone. We are all God's children at the end of the day and as a manifestation of divine mother, I feel. I feel profoundly. As a mother myself with a child, I feel.
A river is fluid and clear. It moves, it does not stagnate. It is always clear and fresh. It does't hang on. It changes,
So that's what I can say right now and not get too emotional about it,
Love you.
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