How the Unmothered Mother their children,
My son came home from school yesterday hungry and exhausted, probably played his heart out in the bus club, so excited to be around other kids. I have to be there for him and give him that warm and loving cushion he needs to get through. I want him to know that he is safe and not alone and that he is loved and wanted; all the things my mother failed to give me. I want him to feel mothered and to carry that inner mother with him throughout his life so that no matter what happens on the outside; and even when I am not there, he can turn inward to that mother within him. That will be his rock and his fire throughout life. He is learning that life is tough and tiring and that you don’t always get what you want and that you have to wait for things and that you grow close to people and then they leave, these are all life lessons that I want him to master when he is young with my help and support. I am learning them now. He will never end up like me, he is 6 and a half and he has had a much better life already than me. I see that very clearly. At the same age, I had already been sexually abused by my father while my mother refused to see any of it. I struggle sometimes as every mother does but I know that I am a loving mother and I am present to the very depths of him. We are honest with our feelings, I allow him to express his rage, his sadness. We talk about feelings every night. I had to repress mine for 33 years with no safe outlet, no holding environment to contain them. I am his holding environment. He can come to me anytime with his feelings and I will hold them and we will look at them together from different angles and then he can let them go. Yesterday he was so angry but by the time he went to bed he was happy again and even told me that ‘mummies are made for hugs and making people feel better’. That made me feel so good. I will do the same when we are in London and he has to face all the daily challenges of being in a busy city where people care less and are more indifferent. I will be there, never indifferent to his troubles with open ears and eyes, willing to see his pain and accepting him, every part of him. He will not be like me.