Saturday, November 19, 2011

dry well

"The mothers may not change. 
I wouldn't want to give daughters hope 
that they will. 
But once a daughter understands
her mother's narcissism, 
her own anger 
and resentment 
will fade...

...It's really about accepting 
your mother's limitations. 
One of the women on my online forum 
described her old mentality 
toward her mother 
as something like this,  
"It's like my mom is colorblind, 
and I keep asking her 
to appreciate a rainbow.""

Today I decided not to go to a dry well for water.

I had lunch with my mother today.
I did not share with her any of my recent breakthroughs
in physical therapy,
my career,
my healing practice
or my spiritual life.

Why would I sully my recent successes with
her criticism?
or her changing the subject immediately to something about her?
or her diminishing my accomplishments?
or her reminding me of past failures
or my short comings?

Today, I kept all my good news to myself.
And you know what?

She didn't notice.

She didn't notice I was quiet.
She wasn't curious about my life.
She didn't ask questions except for
"How are all your students this semester?"

As usual she prattled on about people in her life,
who was sick,
who moved,
who died,
who had somehow paid attention to her,
who had helped her with the handicap shopping cart at the grocery store,
and of course her usual rant and rave about how senile and inadequate my father is.

She even added a new one:
that when I was a baby my father didn't believe I was really his
and therefore didn't want to waste any of his time or affection on me.
Truth was, I was an extension of her when I was a baby and she wouldn't let him near me.

It wasn't until I could walk that I actually, physically interacted with my father regularly. I was able to toddle over to him. She couldn't intervene. Well, she could and did come to think of it.
She wouldn't let my father tuck me in at night after my first day in kindergarten. From that day on she declared I was too old to be tucked in. She wouldn't let him call me sweetheart either. She said I was his daughter not his sweetheart.

Yeah, old wounds that I need to let heal up so I can move on.

Today's silence was my way of reclaiming my power to be who I am without her
or knowledge.

Taking away her power to rain on my parade
by NOT parading in front of her was a smart move on my part.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
What is gluten, what are the symptoms, what other diseases are implicated from being gluten intolerant, can I test to find out if I am gluten intolerant and how to I live with a gluten intolerance?
click here or click below

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1 comment:

Carole Patti said...

Bravo Lisa! I'd always thought of you as a strong and determined person who was unscathed by negative comments from people of lesser minds, unaware of the torment you'd suffered in what should have been the comfort of your own home at the hands of the one who should have been your primary source of love and nurturing. Mothers are not always who, what, or how we envision them to be, but ARE usually at the root of some of our deepest emotional scars. Bravo! for standing up tall, strong, and proud...the way "I" always envisioned YOU!