Acceptance.

Ugh.  You know.  My life hasn't been a fairytale. I was lucky enough to have a family.  I have sisters, I have brothers, I still have both my parents.  We had enough.  There was something lacking though.

My mom grew up in a household with more than twice as many kids.  She was the second oldest.  Perhaps this post will cause controversy, but for me, it is a post of coming to terms with how someone's upbringing can affect generations after.  It's how I see it and how it has affected me.  Perhaps not the whole story.  How could it be?  Past generations.. didn't talk about stuff as openly as we do now.

Anyway,  a lot of responsibility was placed on my mom's shoulders at a young age.  She had to help with raising the family (All the older kids did, I suppose).  I know from having a larger family that even if you have the tools to do that... it's rough.  I can't imagine being a teenager.  I was discussing this with a friend the other day... and she pointed out... "that's the age when you are mean".  She is right.  My mom used whatever tools she had in her arsenal at the time to help raise her siblings... and when she moved out and had a family... she used those same tools, even if they didn't work the best, to raise us.  It's what she knew.  She harbored feelings towards me that are confusing to me as an adult.... and as a child, ugh.  If the conflict for certain behaviors in myself now, is any indication of the child I was... I can say, I was headstrong.  I was argumentative.  I was challenging.  But I was also smart.  I was beautiful.  And I have always the strength of a survivor.  I am sure she saw it.  She was just broken.  I know this... because I am also broken. 

She longed for a relationship with her mom that she could never have.  My grandma just didn't treat my mom the way my mom needed.  I don't know why.  We weren't close to that grandma.  I do know that there was years my mom would work and make presents for my grandma...and my grandma just didn't appreciate the efforts.  She would think of my mom last.  One year, my mom just really wanted this angel ornament that my grandma (appeared) to make everyone else.  I was like 13.  I remember it because my mom came home crying.  She just wanted to be loved and appreciated.  I remember thinking, I wish I could hug her and give her what she needed.  But I couldn't fill that spot for her.  That longing for that relationship.  That was my mom's loss.  When I was 23, my grandma died, and maybe since my mom has come to terms with that.  I'm not sure.

I do know, that this type of stuff is what shapes you as an adult.  How to be mom.  How to be a friend.  How to be a grandparent. How to be a partner to a spouse.  If you don't get the tools from your parents... you get them from other places... or make them up.

I know my mom loves me.  But I longed for that same relationship with my mom, that my mom wanted from her mom.  I don't hope for it to happen anymore... that closeness.  But it has made me very frustrated when working on my relationship with my kids.

Loss just isn't having a person die.  Sometimes, it is loss of a dream.  Or a relationship.  Grief works the same way.  And at some point you realize... it is what it is.  And you can either accept it and move past it... or you can continue to live your life there.  It doesn't mean that some days, your heart doesn't go there... it just means that more often than not, you see the gifts.  The things you do have.  The people that love you.  You have that.

Maybe this post makes no sense.  It's just my stuff in my head that holds me back.  That keeps me from being the mom I want.  The friend I want.  The person I want.  It's not an excuse.  It's the voice in my head, the hesitation to give it all.  Every time I get up and do what I want or need to anyway... I win.

XOXO
Anja