[this is a really long one]

Have you read the book Daisy Jones & The Six? Or seen the 10-episode miniseries? It's about a fictional rock band from the 1970s.

I read the book recently and then watched the series. I finished it yesterday.

There's a scene in the final episode where Daisy (one of the lead singers)...

...who's mother was neglectful and emotionally abusive (there's a brief-but-impactful scene early in the series where her mother hisses angrily at little Daisy and says: “no one wants to hear you sing”)...

...who's mother (and father) moved away from Daisy's childhood home without telling her...

...decides to call her mother, whom, after years of no contact, sends Daisy a letter with photos from her childhood and asks Daisy to call her.

Daisy doesn't open the letter at first. She keeps it hidden away.

​This is what happens when she finally opens it and decides to call her mother. It's worth watching to hear the tone of their voices. But here's the dialogue:

Mother: I wanted to hear your voice. I missed you. And now here you are on the TV, news, and in all those magazines making up stories, telling people you're an orphan. You're not an orphan you selfish little shit. I'm your mother. How about a little credit for once?

Daisy: You know? Mom? Sometimes I think that...that there are a million strangers out there who love me more more than you ever did.

Mother: Well, maybe, but they don't really know you, now do they.

Daisy: Goodbye Mother. Next time you want to hear my voice, why don't you try the fucking radio.

The reason the timing was impeccable is that as I was watching this very scene, my mother responded to an email (which I will include at the bottom of this Love Note) I had sent her, in which I was open and honest about some boundaries I am establishing in anticipation of her moving closer.

Her response? "Have you gotten any counseling?"

My first reaction was that she thinks a therapist brainwashed me.

My husband's first reaction was that she thinks I need counseling and that this is her way of making me doubt myself. Those who love me and (truly) know me agree with my husband.

Because here's the thing: her five word sentence immediately stirred up all my internalized shame: I'm bad, I'm selfish, I'm stupid, I'm spoiled, I'm pathetic.

I did, indeed, doubt myself.

I did, indeed, think that she knows me better than anyone, including me.

I can't tell you how many times my mother has said: "I know you better than you know yourself." And how many times a conversation would start out with her telling me she misses me and end up with her criticizing or disparaging me in some way.

I am not a literal rockstar but at my core I am not that different Daisy. The self-loathing, the self-blame, the self-doubt, the self-criticism. The internalized shame.

So why did I send her that honest email?

Because she had sent me an email about the nor'easter that came through New England this past weekend. She wrote asking me if we'd battened down our hatches.

And something inside me shifted.

I realized I was engaging in dishonest harmony in order to protect her. I realized that she thought we were going right back into our old dynamic and I needed to be clear that I will not be going there with her.

It's not that I don't want her to move closer, and it's not even that I don't want to help her, because I do.

But I had been waiting for her to clarify her expectations and realized that it's my expectations that matter.

I felt the tension and stress rising up in me because on the one hand I wanted to tell her the truth, but on the other hand, I was afraid of her reaction.

Of course I was.

I was afraid of her reaction is because I hadn't set this specific boundary: "I will not be responsible for managing your reactions or feelings."

So instead of responding to her email about the weather, I wrote this:

I want to be honest with you about a few things.

Over the years you have told me you’re ashamed of me, disappointed in me, and disgusted by me. You’ve told me that you enjoy “pushing my buttons” and seeing me get upset.

You’ve also said (so many times): “I may not like you but I will always love you.”

What I experience when I interact with you doesn’t feel like love…at best it feels like I’m being tolerated. At worst it feels like contempt. It’s only when I am being who you think I should be that you “like” me.

Joe is not the reason I stayed away (I said this because she has repeatedly said "I know you didn't like Joe" as if it were him I wanted to avoid). I stayed away because of how you treat me. Because you tend to minimize and dismiss how I feel. Or tell me that I am mistaken about how I feel. Or that I am silly or overly sensitive. I am not open to any conversation in which you tell me that I am wrong for how I feel.

I am not angry or upset. I share this not because I don’t want you to move closer, or because I don’t want to help you, but to say you don’t have to pretend. I don’t want to pretend either.

There are two specific things I think you’ll want to know before you move down here:

1. I no longer drink alcohol and I do not want to be around you when you are.
2. Tim and I have very different political and moral values than you do. When I think about the potential of, say, a holiday meal with you (and those we often spend our holidays with), all I can imagine is you rolling your eyes and thinking we’re “libtards” and how naive and stupid we are.

I am open to the possibility that we could have a healthier relationship. There’s a part of me that looks forward to you being closer. I am also clear about what’s okay and what’s not okay and will not hesitate to communicate that to you, but I will not debate/explain/defend it.

You may not like what I am saying. You may not like how you feel as a result. And I will not help you process and manage those emotions. Once you’ve had a chance to process and digest this on your own (or with a therapist), if you’re still wanting to move down here, Tim and I would like to know to what your specific expectations are.

NGL: hitting "send" made my heart pound. But I also felt grounded and relieved...and most importantly, I liked and respected myself and how I chose to communicate this.

And her response, after all of that, was to ask me if I am getting counseling.

I haven't responded.

Stay tuned for the next episode of "As Karen's Mother Drama Turns" (said with a big grin).

Much much love,

Karen