3 Years Later

“There’s nothing I want more than a mother.”

“Well unfortunately, that’s not going to happen in this lifetime. You have to find mother figures who can support your needs, but ultimately no one will be a better mother to you than yourself.”

This is how a conversation went with my therapist over 6 months ago. This December marks 3 years of no contact with my narcissistic mother. I remember the beginning of this journey; how sad, heartbroken, lost, and afraid I felt. I read post after post from survivors who had gone through this process and were years in. They’d say that they were so much happier than before. That you just had to give yourself time to go through the grief before living your happiest life.

And 3 years later, I agree with them. I feel love, happiness, confidence, and trust that I never thought was possible. Ending the relationship with my mother has felt like clearing the fog I spent my entire life living in. I’m enjoying healthy relationships and self love for the first time in my life. But there’s one thing these articles didn’t mention, one thing that I’m still trying to settle with. 

When I’m scrolling through Insta and I see a girl post about how much she loves her mom, or another girl share how her mom just sent her the sweetest care package, or yet another person who’s hugging their mom in their photo and exclaiming in their caption that they’d be lost without her! That’s when the feeling hits. 

On the good days, it might just feel like a twinge. A hesitation for a second before scrolling onto the next post and thought. Other days, you stop for a whole beat, and think about how lucky that person is. And when life is doing what it does and is throwing you challenge after challenge, and you’re really struggling, you’ll see a post like that and think about how damn much you needs a mother’s hug and love in that moment. And you’ll maybe shed a tear, even 3 years later. 

I don’t know if that feeling of longing for a mothers support goes away. Maybe it gets lighter to carry, maybe comforting yourself through the wave becomes more automatic. 

I’m going to say something that to some of you might be controversial: you do really only get one mother.

You can find relationships with women who are like mothers. Who hug you and love you and celebrate you in a way you deserved all along. But they always have their own commitments, own responsibilities, own lives that came before you.

They won’t drop everything for you. They won’t know you inside and out like only a mother would. You won’t be on their mind every day and they won’t be wondering whether you’re safe or healthy every time you’re apart. Not because they don’t love you, not because they don’t care. Because they are not your mother.

Before I accepted this, I was looking for a mother in every relationship in my life. Someone to love me so much that they would replace all of those years when I didn’t receive what I needed. Of course, that person will never come. Because the only person who can fill that hole is me. 

I can comfort myself through the waves.

I can hold myself when I need comfort.

I can talk myself through my worries and I can laugh at my mistakes and say it’s no big deal.

I can assure myself that I’ll be okay, and rub my own head when I’m needing tenderness. 

I had to accept that I have not and will never have a mother in order to become the mother I always needed. It felt like a death, except without the loving memories to look back on. Just a feeling of exhausted giving up after a decades long war for love.

But it empowered me to accept the love in my life as it is, without any expectation or longing. To celebrate all of my individual relationships and how they fill different needs of mine. To relish in the abundant, authentic love I have in so many areas of my life. 

And to wipe my own tear away, and to lovingly caress my own face, when I’m desperately needing my mother’s love. 

And who knows, maybe I’ll feel differently about this another 3 years from now. Maybe I’ll experience more good days than anything. Maybe the feeling will be like a distant memory. Or maybe I’ll be letting my inner child heal that hurt for the rest of my life. Either way, I know I’ve got me. I know my love isn’t going anywhere.