I am in tears and I will come back to this many times over. Your relationship with your mother is such a striking and spitting image of mine … and your insights about her childhood trauma (my mom lost her dad when she was in high school) helped me make so much more sense of that terrified little girl inside her. I have so much more to say and share but I’ll just say this: thank you. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for being vulnerable. Thank you for being courageous. Thank you for being honest. And thank you for making an effort, so the rest of us can feel inspired to do the same. Much love to you, Nan.
Mansi! Thank you for reading, for commenting so vulnerably. Let's find a time to talk, if that works for you? I'm very moved by what you say. It's a hard piece, isn't it?
Nan, I am tearing up at this moving post and your mother’s heartfelt response. It seems like serendipity that she would suggest you write about it when you already were. This post hit me hard in a lot of ways that I won’t talk about here. But just know that your words resonate and deeply help others.
What's more complex and vexing than mother/daughter relationships? I think you've read Bertha Alyce, A Mother exPosed, by Gay Block. We met because of that book, you might know that. Thank you again, Nan, for your vulnerability and your clarity. Love you.
Hey Billie! I don't think that's how we met, and I didn't know about Gay's book. I'm so excited to check it out. I think we met because of the referral to Jonathan by Abbe? Anyway I don't really care how we got to each other, I'm just so glad we did! Love you, too!
I'm just getting to this outstanding essay. Nan, you remind me (us) that this kind of unflinching exploration is the work and the reward. I could feel the knots (of generational dysfunction and trauma) loosening as I read it. When we do this work it ripples out further than our own families, I think. I'm so glad you included your endnote. Amazing. You are freeing her, too. I remember when my daughter wrote a play about "Me" and our family dysfunction/trauma. When I went to a performance people were worried about how I would take it. They didn't have to worry it was so cathartic. I felt unbelievably liberated and rejeuvenated, seen, and mostly grateful. It's what life is all about. Brava, you!
Your courage to excavate for the truth is an inspiration. And now your mother's courage to hear it/read about it is admirable, if not downright scary. As a mother of five adults, I have become increasingly aware that we all have very different familial stories about the past. I've been "enlightened" on occasion by hearing what they remember, how they felt, what upset has stayed with them. I've also written a lot about mothering them, and as the years go by I realize that maybe I wasn't the phenomenal mother I thought I was! It's humbling. Still, I'm honored that they share their lives with me. I hope your mother feels it, too. She has a brilliant and caring daughter in you.
Thank you, Ann. I can't imagine what it would be like to have one child, much less five! You have some pretty awesome kids (adult kids) yourself. I only know two of your five, and am mightily impressed with their wisdom and strength. At least some of it had come from you. Love to you, always, and some big hugs as well. xoxo
Nan: so raw, brave and insightful. Mothers are always with us. It’s the primal relationship, the reason we’re here and our only means of survival. Fraught? Absolutely. I don’t know if a mother/daughter relationship has ever existed that did not contain an element of hurt. I admire your honesty and willingness to put everything on the line to share your story with us.
My mother died in 2001. Had she lived, she would have been 100 last November. And that would have been alarming, as she was deeply involved in what I can only describe as a religious cult. Eventually, she may have pushed her family out of the picture. Who knows? If she’d developed dementia, she would have been even more vulnerable.
Sometimes I think there should be a “mother and daughter” category on Substack. I’m serious. I may have told you about the one absolute boundary I drew with my mother that allowed me to stay alive. “Individuation” is the clinical term. It was my equivalent of “Nancy no-no.” May I steal that?
Anyway: love you to pieces. I made latkes and cabbage borscht for my kids last night. Now they will love me unconditionally, forever. 🤣 I should be so lucky!
Looking forward to a wonderful 2025. We’ll get through this together. xoxo
The borscht and latkes were amazing! My kids loved them. I enjoy cooking again, something I didn’t do for a long time. Don’t know if I’d do it without a food processor, though.
You may use Nancy No-No, if it pleases. Your kids better love you unconditionally forever for the latkes, especially. My mother made the best latkes. She hung up that apron a long time ago, and I can't blame her for that. Making latkes is a pain in the ass. So much frying, so many scraped knuckles adding that protein kick to the mix, and fuck that damn smoke alarm! We will get through it, Ms. Mary. xo
Hello 2025! Brave and beautiful and totally badass, Nan.
The dynamics of the mother-daughter relationship are layered, and our journey is often circuitous and fraught with emotional landmines.
I have this unresearched theory that the longer our parents live, the longer we remain a child, with all the enmeshment and energetic ties that need to be severed for individuation to happen. Not that it won't happen while the parent is alive, just that it's often more challenging. Especially if we've experienced trauma in our lives. And who hasn't experienced trauma? Though, of course, some are much more grave than others. xoxo
Such a powerful process Nan. You’ve written what is impossible for so many of us to recognize, let alone give voice to. We want perfect mothers, and the mother we have is perfect for us.
I’m reminded of what I say to myself when I arrive in these corners… ‘this too belongs’ (quoting the wisdom of Tara Brach). It simply is and there doesn’t have to be a resolution. Nor answers. Tho answers may arrive someday. Somehow, it frees me from the snare a bit just to know I don’t need to resolve it. Thank you for sharing all you have. It encourages me to consider voicing some more of my own “mother realities”
I like that Tara Brach wisdom. One of the gifts I've taken away from my 12 Step program is that paying special attention to the things and people that trigger us are all opportunities for personal growth. I'm growing! xo
Nan, as always so much of what you write resonates with me. I had an enmeshed, and loving, relationship with my mother. She died in 2022 at 95 just twelve days after a cancer diagnosis. My father had died 8 months before and she was grieving, inconsolable and difficult. Those last months of her life were so hard and in a way brought all our struggles to the surface. Nothing I did was enough, barring sitting down in my father's chair and taking his place. I wish we had had more time to work things out. The consolation is that I know we loved each other and did our best. We are all flawed and human.
We ARE all flawed and human. And expectations are kind of deadly, so I'm learning to lighten my grip on them. Come visit me! I'd love to see you, Dee. xo
Wow, Nan. Just wow. So fearless (even if you don't feel fearless), such clarity, such heart, such eloquence. Hard to read, yet beautiful. Deep respect, friend.
Happy and joy are good.
And I'd like to add "free" one of these days! xo
…that is a given from what I read about your recovery, so I’d add “precious & free” …I see the seeds germinate. One of these days is already here.
I think you may be right. xo
Nan, you are very brave for writing about this. God Bless your path to freedom from the bondage. LOVE YOU!
Love you, too, Marguerite! xo
I am in tears and I will come back to this many times over. Your relationship with your mother is such a striking and spitting image of mine … and your insights about her childhood trauma (my mom lost her dad when she was in high school) helped me make so much more sense of that terrified little girl inside her. I have so much more to say and share but I’ll just say this: thank you. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for being vulnerable. Thank you for being courageous. Thank you for being honest. And thank you for making an effort, so the rest of us can feel inspired to do the same. Much love to you, Nan.
Mansi! Thank you for reading, for commenting so vulnerably. Let's find a time to talk, if that works for you? I'm very moved by what you say. It's a hard piece, isn't it?
Thank you for the offer, Nan. It would be wonderful to talk. I am 46, my mom is 28 years older and there is much that needs to be repaired and let go.
I'll DM you!
Wonderful post, Nan. 💕
Thanks, Sue! xo
Nan, I am tearing up at this moving post and your mother’s heartfelt response. It seems like serendipity that she would suggest you write about it when you already were. This post hit me hard in a lot of ways that I won’t talk about here. But just know that your words resonate and deeply help others.
Thank you, my dreary dendrophile! Lyns, thank you. We'll see what comes next, won't we?
What's more complex and vexing than mother/daughter relationships? I think you've read Bertha Alyce, A Mother exPosed, by Gay Block. We met because of that book, you might know that. Thank you again, Nan, for your vulnerability and your clarity. Love you.
Hey Billie! I don't think that's how we met, and I didn't know about Gay's book. I'm so excited to check it out. I think we met because of the referral to Jonathan by Abbe? Anyway I don't really care how we got to each other, I'm just so glad we did! Love you, too!
I'm just getting to this outstanding essay. Nan, you remind me (us) that this kind of unflinching exploration is the work and the reward. I could feel the knots (of generational dysfunction and trauma) loosening as I read it. When we do this work it ripples out further than our own families, I think. I'm so glad you included your endnote. Amazing. You are freeing her, too. I remember when my daughter wrote a play about "Me" and our family dysfunction/trauma. When I went to a performance people were worried about how I would take it. They didn't have to worry it was so cathartic. I felt unbelievably liberated and rejeuvenated, seen, and mostly grateful. It's what life is all about. Brava, you!
Thank you, Emily. I'm glad you had such a freeing experience. I feel that at this stage, more will be revealed to help us both (me and my mother).
That took courage, my friend!
That's nice of you to say, Brenda. I'm wondering about it, two days later.
Your courage to excavate for the truth is an inspiration. And now your mother's courage to hear it/read about it is admirable, if not downright scary. As a mother of five adults, I have become increasingly aware that we all have very different familial stories about the past. I've been "enlightened" on occasion by hearing what they remember, how they felt, what upset has stayed with them. I've also written a lot about mothering them, and as the years go by I realize that maybe I wasn't the phenomenal mother I thought I was! It's humbling. Still, I'm honored that they share their lives with me. I hope your mother feels it, too. She has a brilliant and caring daughter in you.
Thank you, Ann. I can't imagine what it would be like to have one child, much less five! You have some pretty awesome kids (adult kids) yourself. I only know two of your five, and am mightily impressed with their wisdom and strength. At least some of it had come from you. Love to you, always, and some big hugs as well. xoxo
Nan: so raw, brave and insightful. Mothers are always with us. It’s the primal relationship, the reason we’re here and our only means of survival. Fraught? Absolutely. I don’t know if a mother/daughter relationship has ever existed that did not contain an element of hurt. I admire your honesty and willingness to put everything on the line to share your story with us.
My mother died in 2001. Had she lived, she would have been 100 last November. And that would have been alarming, as she was deeply involved in what I can only describe as a religious cult. Eventually, she may have pushed her family out of the picture. Who knows? If she’d developed dementia, she would have been even more vulnerable.
Sometimes I think there should be a “mother and daughter” category on Substack. I’m serious. I may have told you about the one absolute boundary I drew with my mother that allowed me to stay alive. “Individuation” is the clinical term. It was my equivalent of “Nancy no-no.” May I steal that?
Anyway: love you to pieces. I made latkes and cabbage borscht for my kids last night. Now they will love me unconditionally, forever. 🤣 I should be so lucky!
Looking forward to a wonderful 2025. We’ll get through this together. xoxo
So funny about latkes & borscht. You are lucky already!!!
The borscht and latkes were amazing! My kids loved them. I enjoy cooking again, something I didn’t do for a long time. Don’t know if I’d do it without a food processor, though.
Just want to add that your daughter is the bomb.
You may use Nancy No-No, if it pleases. Your kids better love you unconditionally forever for the latkes, especially. My mother made the best latkes. She hung up that apron a long time ago, and I can't blame her for that. Making latkes is a pain in the ass. So much frying, so many scraped knuckles adding that protein kick to the mix, and fuck that damn smoke alarm! We will get through it, Ms. Mary. xo
I saw so much of my own strained relationship with my mother mirrored in these words. So brave to put them out there.
Thanks, Elizabeth. xo
Hello 2025! Brave and beautiful and totally badass, Nan.
The dynamics of the mother-daughter relationship are layered, and our journey is often circuitous and fraught with emotional landmines.
I have this unresearched theory that the longer our parents live, the longer we remain a child, with all the enmeshment and energetic ties that need to be severed for individuation to happen. Not that it won't happen while the parent is alive, just that it's often more challenging. Especially if we've experienced trauma in our lives. And who hasn't experienced trauma? Though, of course, some are much more grave than others. xoxo
It’s probably more of a lived experienced bias that feels true inside myself. ❤️
Could be! You’re the bomb, Paulette. xoxo
I'm not sure that I agree with your unresearched theory, but I'll definitely give it some thought, Paulette! xo Happy New Year, lovely friend.
Oh, how lovely. And how relatable on so many levels. Thank you, Nan.
Thank you, Liza. xo
Such a powerful process Nan. You’ve written what is impossible for so many of us to recognize, let alone give voice to. We want perfect mothers, and the mother we have is perfect for us.
I’m reminded of what I say to myself when I arrive in these corners… ‘this too belongs’ (quoting the wisdom of Tara Brach). It simply is and there doesn’t have to be a resolution. Nor answers. Tho answers may arrive someday. Somehow, it frees me from the snare a bit just to know I don’t need to resolve it. Thank you for sharing all you have. It encourages me to consider voicing some more of my own “mother realities”
I like that Tara Brach wisdom. One of the gifts I've taken away from my 12 Step program is that paying special attention to the things and people that trigger us are all opportunities for personal growth. I'm growing! xo
Nan, as always so much of what you write resonates with me. I had an enmeshed, and loving, relationship with my mother. She died in 2022 at 95 just twelve days after a cancer diagnosis. My father had died 8 months before and she was grieving, inconsolable and difficult. Those last months of her life were so hard and in a way brought all our struggles to the surface. Nothing I did was enough, barring sitting down in my father's chair and taking his place. I wish we had had more time to work things out. The consolation is that I know we loved each other and did our best. We are all flawed and human.
You and I must cross paths in 2025...please!
xoD
We ARE all flawed and human. And expectations are kind of deadly, so I'm learning to lighten my grip on them. Come visit me! I'd love to see you, Dee. xo
Wow, Nan. Just wow. So fearless (even if you don't feel fearless), such clarity, such heart, such eloquence. Hard to read, yet beautiful. Deep respect, friend.
Thank you, Pamela. xoxo
And by the way, kudos too to the mother I see through your eyes.
xo.