It’s inevitable. I suppose, it’s the nature of the complicated relationship known as “mother/daughter.” No matter which side you’re on, it’s filled with mixed feelings, all tangled up. As mothers and daughters go, we love each other and we hate each other. We want to be connected; we want our independence. We want closeness; we want to be left alone. We want to be “just like her,” for whatever that means. We want to be “anything, but her,” for whatever that may mean. We want approval; we want to rebel. We want to tear each other down and then we want to build each other up. We get jealous of one another; we get proud of one another. We want to be best friends; we want to be mortal enemies. We can’t wait to get rid of each other; we mourn each other. And all of that usually happens in a time span of five minutes when mother and daughter are in contact with each other.
We’re pushing buttons, pulling strings, avoiding issues, attacking each other, smothering and running away, everything, it seems, except being at peace with our mother/daughter reality.
I’ve never been a mother, personally; I’ve only been a daughter. That’s something, indeed, every female experiences in her life. Some daughters have never known their mothers. Some have been abandoned, abused and mistreated by them. Some daughters have lost their mothers. Some daughters have great relationships with their mothers. But, no matter what, “mother” has an incredible impact on whomever we do and don’t become. “Mother” is an influential ghost to each of us. “Mother:” the promise of unconditional love, nurturing and caring.
But, with eating disorders, in particular, it seems that the word “mother” carries so much extra complication with it. I remember the enmeshment of my relationship with Mom, first demonstrated as we were “diet buddies” throughout my childhood. When issues of getting achievements, getting down to our “right weight” and comforting our sorrows with food and magical thinking came into play, however, I felt that the “mother promise” was all distortion, no substance. I felt betrayed, not just by my mother, but by its promising carrot dangling over my soul and my identity.
I created this drawing,
“Braids,” back in 1995. It was part Mother’s Day present for my mom, part therapy for me. The drawing is the two of us at the same age of five. I remembered something, as that little girl, that stayed with me and has deepened in its meaning for me over the years. When that photograph of me was taken, Mom purposely braided my hair because, she herself, had braids when she was photographed as a little girl. She wanted to capture that similarity, that bond, I guess, somehow. Her thinking was this: “Like mother, like daughter.”
And, in theory, that “Like mother, like daughter” sentiment should be loving, sweet and innocent. But, instead, so often, it seems to be haunting, confusing and frustrating for both mother and daughter. The enmeshment between the two of us, I know, affected us both. Mom had issues, frustration and pain in our relationship; I did as well. Support, for one another, therefore, becomes an even greater challenge in the relationship as personal desires, fears and hurts all demand specific attention; they are “braided” into an already complex human dynamic.
I suppose that’s why support, creative individuality and expression are so important to me now. Each one of us is, indeed, a separate, unique individual, not a clone of anyone else, mother or daughter included.
Yes, indeed, each one of us is influenced largely by mother. It can be a fuzzy, vague concept or a painful, frustrating relationship with our actual human, imperfect mother figures.
But, whether or not we’re mothers in our own lives, we’re always daughters. And we’re always little girls, somewhere in our psyches. That’s to be celebrated, protected and nurtured, eating disorder or not. And, no matter what pain or issues surround our mother/daughter experiences, or, for that matter, our daughter experiences, in general, we are all the daughters of God. And God, is Loving and Faithful to touch and heal and restore us.
"And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace."
Luke 8:48
Let’s braid, this, into who we are.
