My mother was like this too. She wasn’t mean, just not emotionally available. It made me feel very alone and vulnerable in the world. As a rule, I wasn’t bullied, but I remember one incident when I was 5 years old where some older children at school backed me into a corner and tried to make me talk to them. I was painfully shy at that age to the point I could barely speak to anyone unless I knew them well. The experience terrified me and I was afraid of it happening again, but I didn’t say a thing about it to my mother.
When I started my period, I hid it from her. I actually didn’t realise what it was and thought I was peeing blood. I hid that medical fear too. When I developed breasts, I secretly went to a department store on my own and figured out a bra long after I’d first wanted one. When I developed acne, I was really self-conscious about it. I just remember her saying that she’d never had bad skin and that I probably just needed to drink more water and improve my diet. In essence, she made me feel that it was my fault.
I skipped over a lot of the drama of a typical teen by simply not having much of a life. Any friends that I had were superficial, I didn’t date and I did well in school. When I met my now DH, I didn’t tell her about him for years. We never talked about sex or relationships at any stage. The closest she ever came was telling me that she didn’t want me to date until I was 16. My sister also self-harmed when she was a teenager. As far as I know, she never talked to her about it.
Basically, I’ve never had an emotionally intimate or vulnerable conversation with my mother. She’s never said she loved me. I’ve never hugged her. She’s almost never seen me cry. She’s even told me that I rarely cried as a baby, which seems strange. Whenever I’ve had an emotionally-charged problem, I’ve hidden it from her. It’s almost like I was an orphan, but people around me didn’t know.
I don’t have children, but if I do in the future, I would be so different with them. I’d hate it if they felt as alone as I did. I think it made me hypervigilant to my surroundings. Everything felt dangerous because I didn’t have a support network behind me to soften the blow. If something bad happened to me, I had to navigate it on my own. So I just tried not to get hit.