Chapter 24 - R2YM (Insight into having an absent-mum due to death)
It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I realised how affected I was by my absent-mother. I had no idea that the way I navigated my life had been shaped around this .
I’ve been speaking to two other women about their experiences and you know what’s sad yet comforting? Our experiences of growing up without our mum’s were so similar. We struggled with relationships, abandonment issues and ultimately lots of unanswered questions. The first one being, who was this woman who gave birth to me; who was she when she wasn’t my mother? This question alone has changed my stance on mothers in general; we need to humanise them.
Though we were all children when we lost our mothers, it’s very insightful to see all the similarities between us. It’s become very clear to me that it doesn’t matter whether you lost your mum to death or because she walked away, it shapes your journey of womanhood entirely. It feels as though you have survived the heartbreaking bit and now you have to spend your adulthood unlearning old patterns of thought.
Between myself and the two wonderful women who spoke to me in depth about their journey with an absent-mum, we decided it’s time to discuss this openly.
I have decided to split this up into three separate chapters as they are quite intense reads, this chapter features a White woman, the second one will feature a Black Woman and my point of view is sprinkled between both so you will have the perspective of a WOC too. I do understand how important representation is and how this may cause differences in our experiences with having an absent-mum however quite honestly, there just aren’t that many.
A WOMAN WHOSE MOTHER ISN’T IN HER MEMORY – Claira Hermet (35 years old, London & a presenter @bbcradiolondon)
Claira’s mum died of breast cancer when she was 9 years old, the memories that she has are vague and of course painful to recall, what she does remember is that before she lost her mum she felt safe and secure.
“I was devastated. It was like my world had ended. Nothing made any sense. I didn’t know who or what I was without my mum. I didn’t know she could die.”
Claira knew her mum was ill, but what does that really mean to a child if they don’t understand the risks and implications of it? For her there was no safety net between the transition of having a mum and suddenly not having one.
As I mentioned above, I struggle to recall pleasant memories with my mum and my strongest memories are traumatic; but thought this was a given as my mum was abusive. Claira’s strongest memory of her mother is unfortunately quite traumatic also and I think that’s very insightful, it says a lot about how children compartmentalise memories.
“Honestly my strongest memory of my mum is her sitting in the bath. She had had a single mastectomy and her chest on that side was an open wound caused by the cancer. She was losing her hair and asked me to cut it off.”
To this day she still feels the pain of unanswered questions she has due to the lack of memories and not being able to know who her mother was as a woman. What do you do when there is nobody left to tell you about her? Claira’s mum has little to no family left, she doesn’t know who her mum’s friends were.
“Was she funny? Who was her first boyfriend? What’s the craziest thing she’s ever done? What was her childhood like? What were her hopes for me? Would she be proud of me? It’s like I don’t know the person who brought me into this world, who is essentially half of me. I feel really disconnected from her. This hurts and even as I’m writing this it makes me cry.”
What I get from Claira is this very strong sense of empathy towards others, it’s almost as if she will go above and beyond for others due to the pain she has experienced. This is something that is also very true of me, it’s the tendency to want to help others even if it’s at my own detriment sometimes. However this empathy and need to help others is not something that Claira would ever want to change.
“I feel a deep need to help others. To ensure that they never have to feel the way that I have done. I see people’s pain and it really hurts. However this journey has taught me what is possible, how much we have the power to shape, grow and make incredible lives for ourselves regardless of circumstance.”
RELATIONSHIPS & WOMANHOOD
The desperation to be loved is something we all have in common. It’s been a constant battle of not trusting anyone but dying to feel wanted, needed and safe. I think this can be dangerous because there isn’t much regard for our safety/emotional boundaries – or at least this used to be the case before we recognised it.
I personally feel as though I missed out on all the love/hugs/affection and so this has definitely played a role in the choices I have made growing up. It’s as if you disregard your instincts because the need to feel loved overrides it completely. I mean, I feel as though I have faced the ultimate rejection; at a very early stage in life and so it only makes sense that I have had unlearning to do.
I’ve always felt different to other women, almost like I know something that they don’t; as though I’ve experienced this secret world that they haven’t. It’s only now that I’ve started to talk about it and actively seek out other women who have been through what I have, that I feel like I’m not alone anymore. I still find it hard to relate to other women, it’s almost as though the stereotypical ‘gentle’ nature of women makes me uncomfortable and awkward.
Giving myself time to grieve (my mum didn’t die but something in me definitely did) and face the uncomfortable truths has been life-changing. I’m finally in a healthy relationship, with boundaries on both ends that we respect and adhere to. I have never felt more secure and for the first time in my life I am not constantly waiting for someone to get up and abandon me.
“I desperately wanted to be loved. I felt confused, like someone had hit be round the head and I had just never been able to make sense of thing ever again. I want to see a clear path or know what I should do but I just had no sense of direction or clue of what was possible. I felt broken, incomplete and insufficient.
My self hatred and confusion about my experience ended up with me seeking attention and affection from men. Sadly though I couldn’t communicate with them as I really struggled to talk. I was having sex with men but unable to express my needs, perhaps because I didn’t know what they were but also because my communication skills were massively under developed. I so badly wanted to no longer feel alone.
What is womanhood? I don’t know if I really know now. I always felt disconnected from women. I didn’t really know how to relate to adult women. I had to learn that. I always just felt less than, incomplete. These words and themes come up a lot for me when talking about the absence of my mother. I learnt only because my friends and I became adult women. Prior to that I really just thought I needed to be attractive to find love to feel ok. Which is really sad but that’s what I thought it was to be a woman. I always feel like an outsider. Even now. I feel like I’m not a real women or a real grown up. It’s something I have to continually work on. Comparing myself to people I know who grow up with a mum I would say I am less balanced.
I would not be this version of me if it was not for my experiences. I also lost my sister to breast cancer. After this it was discovered I have the BRCA1 gene mutation so I had a preventive double mastectomy. After everything I am now in a space where I have a very strong sense of self. This was discovered out of necessity. My life was such a mess mentally and emotionally for such a long time and because my experiences where extreme I knew I had to make changes. After my sisters death finding a sense of peace and love for myself became imperative. I knew that no matter how long it was going to take I had to find a way to be ok.
I have a strong understanding of the powers of self love, self belief and self confidence which I feel we all have a birth right to. My mum’s death and her absence have shaped me and my life. Accepting that this is my life, there is no if’s or but’s has allowed me to take responsibility for myself and my life and really start living it. “
My dad was my main caregiver and he did his absolute best but let’s face it, the dads who stay behind and take care of their children aren’t discussed often either. What he did know how to do was cover my practical needs, for this I will forever be grateful but this meant that sometimes he was emotionally unavailable.
These discussions were not being had period. Not with us, not around us and definitely not in society as a whole; not in the same way absent-fathers were discussed. I’ve had conversations with my own dad about this recently and he expressed that he struggled in the same way because of the lack of discussion around this. He didn’t know where to turn to for advice, he didn’t know any other men immediately around him that could relate to this. This resulted in him not even recognising that he needed advice on this on the first place – in his eyes he was doing every he should and would be doing had my mum never treated me in this way/left me.
I was fortunate that my grandma was there during this transition; she was my source of love and support and this cushioned me as the rest of my world was crumbling. Although she died only a couple of years later, having her was vital to me as I was able to experience that maternal guidance first-hand.
Growing up I had a couple of close friends whose mothers did embrace me into their lives and I always felt welcome. I had one close friend growing up whose house I had dinner at every night for at least 3 years, I was never made to feel like a burden. It provided me with routine and again, without this I might have felt the loss of my mum even more deeply.
Being able to witness these healthy mother-daughter relationships pushed me into me realising just how much my own mum had wronged me and that was painful; to the point where I sometimes stayed away.
“The day my mum died I think my whole family kind of died and was reborn because nothing was ever the same. Everything changed and everyone changed.
For my teenage and early 20’s I tried to cope alone because I truly felt I was alone. I missed out on the attention and affection my mum had once given me. I really didn’t know where I fitted it. I felt uncomfortable in myself, in my life and in the world. My ‘future’ or ‘what I could be’ was never even discussed or considered. I had very little guidance and so most stuff I had to workout for myself.
My Dad is a lovely man. I love him very much. He dealt with things in his own way which I know at the time he thought was best for us and him. It wasn’t. I didn’t have a role model. He did the best with what he knew at the time, as this wasn’t being spoken about; the consequence was that I didn’t get the support I actually needed but instead got the support he thought I needed.
I started my period on Christmas eve. I knew a little bit about them. I didn’t want to tell anyone so I used my pocket money to buy sanitary towels for a year or so before anyone notice. It was scary and every time something like that happened I was reminded of how much I wanted my mum back. It was always very emotional.
As far as role-models go, I just don’t think I’ve ever had that. I started reading books, trying therapy and doing all I could from the space I was in to achieve some kind of equilibrium. Everything else took a back bench because I started to realise that until I raised myself to a level playing field internally nothing else would have balance, nothing else would make me feel whole and nothing else would allow me to finally feel happiness. “
It’s like we all power through life, not just because we have to but because we know we deserve to thrive; then Mothers Day comes around and we breakdown.
There are some fundamental and obvious problems that need addressing; it all starts with having open and honest conversations. We can be the women to each other that we have so been in need of. What’s clear is, the loss of our mums has shaped our lives and we owe it to ourselves to continue unlearning behaviour that only hurts us further.
I think after all 3 posts, I will do a final one to fully analyse what we have all had in common. I do think it’s important to remember that when we are talking about absent-mums, there are also young girls/women out there whose mothers left them without a say or choice in the matter due to death. Whether our mothers chose to leave or have died – we still had to navigate life without them and we have all been shaped by this.
