Author of You Are Not Your Mother: Releasing Generational Trauma & Shame and Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters: A Guide for Separation, Liberation & Inspiration
countering the bowed posture of shame
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When my husband and I got engaged in 1997, my mother had just met the man who would become her third husband. They had a whirlwind romance and as we planned for our wedding, my mother suggested we have a joint wedding. I had the wherewithal to say no. She then asked if, instead of throwing my bouquet to all the single women at my wedding that I give it to her. I hadn't planned on a bouquet toss (I am not big on tradition) so I made a show of giving it to her during our reception. She and her husband were married six months later. This past weekend I came across a candid picture of my mother and me at her wedding reception. There we are, our hands holding our forks the same way, our eyes cast downward at whatever it was were eating. She in the foreground, me by her side. My body language says it all. Just looking at it I can feel myself shrinking, my body curling inward, my head bowed, almost like a turtle trying to pull its head inside its shell. But still in lockstep with her. It would be another 12 years before I consciously started to take back my life, and my power, from her. That I had given it to her in the first place makes all the sense in the world to me now, but I shamed myself for years because in my mind, "letting her" have that power meant I was weak, pathetic, passive, and ineffectual. What I know now is that "letting her" have that power was a highly intelligent adaptation my body made to keep me alive. Her fight was too much for my nervous system so it "chose" freeze/appease. It knew that fighting back would never work. Which isn't to say I had no fight in me. I just turned it inward and hurt myself, quite literally. Unshaming anger, and learning that it is a part of me that loves me and that I can trust (and more importantly be safe with) it has made all the difference. Much, much love, Karen |
Karen C.L. Anderson
Author of You Are Not Your Mother: Releasing Generational Trauma & Shame and Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters: A Guide for Separation, Liberation & Inspiration
The fable goes like this: A frog was hopping along the shore of a river looking for a place to cross. He came upon a scorpion sitting on the shore. “Hello, friend frog,” said the scorpion. “It appears you are looking to cross the river. I too want to cross. Would you mind carrying me?” The frog was taken aback. “Why, if I let you on my back to cross the river, you’d sting me and I would die. I don’t think I’ll do that.” The scorpion immediately replied, “There is no logic to your concern. If...
“Well I guess I was just a TERRIBLE mother then.” Did she ever say that to you? And did you find yourself trying to comfort her? Emotionally immature mothers can't see the both/and: I love my child AND I hurt my child. Instead of getting curious about your experience, she collapses into shame, defensiveness, excuses, and/or self-pity. And you end up saying: “No, Mom, you weren’t terrible…” thus taking care of her feelings again. You don’t need your mother to declare herself...
If your mother isn't aware that she's carrying shame, she won't be emotionally safe. You'll know this if you're avoiding her because you're afraid of her reaction if you bring up certain subjects. It's a sign that her shame overrides her ability to empathize with you. This is because shame (especially when it's internalized and she's unaware of it) makes it difficult, if not impossible, to regulate herself to be present with you. She can't tap into feelings of care and respect. You will be...