I love my mom and my dad. I think no matter what they have done or didn’t do will never stop me from caring and tolerating them. I have to myself that they did the best they could and both of them had little to work with when I was born. I keep that in mind and therefore I guess I never truly judged or blamed them for anything.
I do know, however, that they were negligent. Being massively trained in Psychology it is impossible for me not to state it or hide it. Their parenting style consisted in giving me food to make me content – and even though they are not aware of it they also hoped that food would fix any of my emotions or mood, because they didn’t know how to deal with them. That’s how they loved and comforted me, they gave me a lot of food, because they couldn’t give me what they didn’t have.
Later on, their parenting style led me to a diagnosis of morbid obesity at the age of 15. My doctor scared me and she made sure I understood that I could die at the age of 30, if I didn’t change. I got really scared. Then the fear got mixed with anger and I began to workout and eat well everyday. My parents didn’t really believe I would make it and since then people’s uncertainty became one of my biggest driving force, which is not entirely healthy, but I will leave that for another time.
I managed to take off 50Kg (110 pounds) from my body between the age of 15 and 17. However, I didn’t manage to take off the anger, the frustration, and the anxiety of not knowing how to deal with my emotions and life decisions. I never really recovered from my eating disorder, because food was the only solution I was ever taught as a child. I didn’t learn any life skills and my parents were never able to offer me life advice. That always hurt me and I don’t think my parents will ever understand that what I needed, and still need, is someone to put their hands over my heart and say that it is ok, that I am ok.
I will turn 30 next Spring and I think I reached far by myself, even without my parents’ guidance. Luckily, or not, I grew up sensitive, instead of numb, but the program I have had inside for years is one that reproduces my parents’ neglect: I’m great at giving to others, but I still have a lot of work to do in matters of giving to myself and passively receiving from others. I’m better now at receiving compliments and I’ve been doing an incredible progress at keeping away from people who have narcissist tendencies and who replicate, somehow, the dynamic I was exposed to during childhood.
This past week I had a relapse though, and the trigger was the fact that my mother did not call me as she said she would. She actually seldom calls; she might have called 3 times maximum over the past 3 years that I have been living abroad. I have already discussed that with her and I know she has her own version why she doesn’t call. I already told her, or at least I think I have, how the lack of spontaneous contact through a call makes me feel. However, she didn’t call as she said she would. She called one week later and I didn’t get it because I was taking a nap.
I didn’t proceed as I used to: I would call her back immediately. Instead, I waited for her to try again. It has been 4 days ever since and there hasn’t been no call or text. As a grown up maybe I shouldn’t be bothered, but the truth is that I went off the wagon. I turned to food again. In fact, I must have spent at least a week only eating fast food and indulging in ice-cream and biscuits late at night. I cried. I ate some more. I checked my inbox. I ate some more.
Again, I love my mom and dad. However… I really think it is time for me to stop waiting to receive the kind of love I thought I should have received from them. I think it is time to realise that they are who they are and I am who I am. It does indeed hurt. It is probably one of the most painful lessons, because all the other lessons regarding failed and abusive relationships… they all derived from this wound which food can’t heal. I think I’m consciously stepping out today as the loving and caring mother of myself. That includes guiding myself with love and compassion… it implies reassuring myself that I am ok and things can now start to settle down.
My heart is expanding, my womb is turning alive, and my eyes are watery. I feel that I’m tearing down the shield I had built around me, which blocked me from creating and using my own female energy. Maybe that’s part of motherhood, maybe motherhood is not just to make sure that your child is fed and quiet. I’m sure that motherhood is also about nurturing, creating, and supporting your own energy as a human being, so that you can then become an adult who is ok with just being and who knows for sure that everything is meant to flow compassionately, despite life’s ups and downs.
Edit: My mom gave me a call at the end of the day 🙂