Tens and thousands of dollars of therapy and I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t have father issues, I have mother issues. But my mother was loving, for all intents and purposes one of the best moms you could possibly have.
She was present, she worked hard as a nurse to provide and did what she could to give us every advantage on this Earth.
So how can that be traumatic? She had these unbelievably high expectations for what I was supposed to be, how I was supposed to look, and how I was supposed to behave. There was very little room for error or empathy. Although I feel like my mother tried to understand me as best as she could. In her mind, to be fair, she immigrated from a 3rd world country, lost her home, escaped a war and built a whole brand new life, in a brand new country that she didn’t speak the language of. One that isn’t half bad either. My parents are quintessentially living the elusive American dream.
So she felt, and made it abundantly clear very often to me, for as long as I can remember that I had no choice, but to succeed. I had no choice, but to excel and to be exceptional because she had sacrificed so much in order to come to this country and build a new life.
But I wasn't that star child that I felt like she wanted. I was that awkward, fat, teased kid. I wasn't a loner so at least my mother didn’t have to worry about me being a lonely psychopathic. I definitely had a harder time than my sister finding my way, and that lasted well and into college.
On top of being fat, I was also labeled the not smart one. I was the only one in my entire family that did not graduate from an advanced honors program at our local high school (I had multiple anxiety attacks because I couldn't keep up with the program and eventually had to be pulled out of the program for my mental health).
All to the dismay of my mother who made it very clear that she was disappointed in me, frequently. Now don't get me wrong. My mother loves me, probably so much to the point where it can be suffocating. And her own variety of tough love that left me in tears and crying in my little closet when I was a small child, ended up with me growing up to be quite the resilient, stubborn woman.
So after I found myself divorced for a second time and $60,000 in debt. Although I was devastated and absolutely crushed. I still somehow managed to pick myself up, get to work, and trudge on.
And you know what I thought of in the midst of my devestation? I remember thinking to myself, my mother has been through worse. This was NOT a problem, this was a situation that needed to be handled. A REAL problem was a war-torn country, a REAL problem was being forced to leave your home country, a REAL problem was finding yourself in a country forced to build a life to survive where you don’t even speak the language. THOSE are problems.
It was a lifetime of perspective that my mother provided me about the privileges that I have just by being born in America. The grit & tenacity I learned from studying throughout the night while in school to get the elusive straight A report card in the most challenging classes. The resourcefulness to adapt and pivot when things weren’t working in an attempt to please my mother. The constant disappointment that plagued my youth (some deserved due to some juvenile delinquency), prepared me and gave me skills to endure and survive hardship like few others have.
To date, the year after my divorce is still my highest grossing year.
So do my mom and I have issues? Sure. But I love her and I know that she has always wanted what was best for me and in all of her harshness although I have to deal with the negative repercussions on the backend as an adult. I am still grateful. It is because my mother taught me to keep picking myself back up even when I didn't feel like it. It is because she taught me to be patient and to put in the work. It is because of my mother in large part, that I am where I am today.
So if you have a mother, you feel like you can never please, or will never be happy with you, or proud of you. I’ve been there. (hell, I’m still there sometimes). Look at her with an open heart. Because like so many other things in life that may have hurt you or left you confused, I believe those things help make you into who you are. And I don't know about you, but I really love who I am, and I really hope you do too.
Did you have a tiger mom? Do you feel like she helped you be better or worse?
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