Tell me about your mother

[Aqualegia]

I was at an Arts' Festival on Sunday and met Tracey Kershaw, who is currently running a project entitled "Tell Me About Your Mother"

traceykershaw.co.uk/projects/tell-me-about-your-mother/

People were invited to sit in a comfy chair, give a few moments' thought to their mother, write a few words and then post them (anonymously) into a box. Tracey then printed out a few onto a calico material and hung them on a washing line (looked incredible).

It was strangely moving for me. I ended up writing something like, "She came from a long line of mothers who didn't enjoy being mothers. By being brave and honest enough to admit this to me, she enabled me to transform the future of that line" ... which is better than my usual lazy condemnation of her limited mothering capacity.

Over to you. Imagine it on a washing line, flapping gently in a nice breeze :)

My mother comes from a family of women who have spent their lives seeking the approval of emotionally unavailable men at the expense of their children.

My mother is pathologically loyal to the wrong people, dependent, naive, ruled by the emotions of the moment, not able to fathom that her feelings do not necessarily reflect reality.

My mother has very little self-respect. She was first hit by her father as a two-week-old infant. Her own mother, who is very like her, went on to have more children by this monster of a man, just as my mother would have if she had been in that situation, I am sure. She was sent off to board at the age of five. This shattered her.

She had one child who was very like her husband, and another child who was very like her. She had no skills to raise the first child (me), and became dysfunctionally enmeshed with the second (my DSis), who she later discarded in favour of first one man, and then another. This shattered my sister.

My mother is a terrible disappointment to me.

We never got on but I'm pleased she got herself sorted enough to be a good parent to my younger brother. I thank her for telling me none of it was my fault just before she died as it meant I could draw a line under it and get on with my life.

She's always been there, more often than not picking up the pieces. She had a hard life as a child, my grandmother was severely emotionally traumatised and was not at all easy, and even the smallest thing could trigger her, like talking about having a shower, but she is a fantastic mother for me.

Being mother is a lot more pregnancy- in my mum's case that was a good few years of assessment- which is why my birth mother is my birth mother and my mum is my mum. I remember being told because she didn't give birth to me, she wasn't my real mother. I was eight and I laughed because it was (and is) the stupidest thing I've heard in my life.

She taught me to read, to sew, to cook. She loved me and my sister unconditionally. (Though she rarely said so)
She didn't share things well. She hated losing her independence,but eventually loved her carers.
She was the OW, but she and my dad loved each other more than any couple I ever knew. She lived 20 years with a broken heart.
I miss her every day.

Some of the stories here have brought a lump to my throat, I thought I had it difficult but reading alikat and others made me feel like an imposter in comparison. I feel guilty and conflicted and imagine that I must be some kind of monster because when people talk about the void of losing their mum I just don't know if I will feel that way when mine passes. I've only come to terms with my feelings towards my mum quite recently so I don't know if this is a normal part of the healing process

She didn't want me and made sure I knew it. She did not know how to parent me and made no attempt to find out. She was physically and emotionally abusive to me until I left home at 18 and finally went NC with me ( and her only DGC) when I was 33 because she said I was a disappointment to her. She said I had ruined her life and shown not one shred (her exact words) of remorse.

Her cruel words to me as a teenager that no-one would ever love me opened the door to thirty years of abusive relationships, which she used as another stick to beat me with.

She blamed me for the breakdown of her marriage to my (mostly absent) DF and made me at the age of eight and nine sleep in a double bed with him because she would not.

I haven't seen her for 26 years. She is still alive at the age of 94 and I am still terrified of her.

She had a horrendous start to her life, leaving a tiny town in Wales when she was 15, coming to London on her own.

She had lots of children, never lost her Welsh accent and was a 5 foot formidable woman. She had the largest squashiest breast which you would sink your head in when you needed comfort even when a teenager. She told each of her children that she loved us best she gave time for each of us, she was the cornerstone of our family.

She and my father were killed on 22nd December 1997. We were teenagers.

What can I say, I miss her, I've missed her.

one step

She sounds one in a million

Onestep that's so sad.....

My dear mum was a product of her upbringing. Her mother died from cancer when my mum was 10 and her father had a life changing stroke when she was 13. She nearly really had care free teenage years.

She met my nasty, abusive, violent severally mentally ill father on the rebound and stayed with him for 30 years. He beat her and us. I love my mum but I struggle to understand why she had this ideal of 'family' that included him. She is strict (even still) slightly strange and blows hot and cold. She was worn down but I think this made her emotionally unavailable and sometimes cruel.

I love her and I understand why she is the way she is but it wasn't carefree. There is four of us. We also have significant mental health issues and have made poor choices in some way.

Ironically my dad left my mum for another woman.

These are heart-rending.

As for my mum, I struck lucky there. I have always known there is one person who adores me and is always behind me 100% in everything I do. I'm still a mummy's girl after all these years.

My mother never got what she was looking for from motherhood.

She blamed me for being unloveable; for the fact I had denied her the mother hood she'd wanted; for the fact she had to endure a second pregnancy/childbirth so that I wasn't an only child.

I used to feel very angry towards her but after counselling, I just pity her now. She couldn't see what she had or what she has thrown away.

We are NC with her now.

RockinD So many similarities in your short story that I could have copied it almost word for word.

One step she sounded amazing xx

She was strict, put me down and favoured my older sister.
I was scared to ask for things like cookery ingredients for school because it was a huge drama, and then spen the whole day a school in a tizz because I didn't have the right stuff. I never dared tell her that I cried at swimming.

I became the doctor she had wanted to be, got married to a lovely man and had 3 beautiful children and I'm still not good enough to wan to spend Christmas with.

She is however a much beloved Granny and I keep in touch because of my kids. She's a much better Granny than mum.

That felt weird writing that all down!

She can be warm and kind, but can turn into a horrid and mean woman at the drop of a hat. She lies profusely. She will tell anyone what they want to hear and then bitch about them behind their backs. Her happiness depends on what she thinks other people think of her. She will bully me into behaving the way she wants me to, or at least she did when it used to work, she still tries. She has a poor moral compass.

She did do her best though. It was good enough in that I'm a functioning reasonable person, but it could have been so much better. I could have had more self esteem, less anxiety and no eating disorder.

I would have loved a mother who was rational and would think before she spoke. But I wouldn't have traded in her warmth for it. She provided a fantastic home, food and general love and care in other ways.

My mother was not a cake baking, house proud matriarch like some of my childhood friends mums - a working mum in rural Wales in the 70s wasn't the norm. She is intelligent, quiet, bookish, no ear for music, can't hold a tune, not laugh out loud funny either but she cares so passionately about her children and now her grandchildren. She knows us all so well; you'll never get an unconsidered gift and very often she'll just send something out of the blue that you would like. She always puts herself last. She gets a lot of joy out of making others happy. She's inspired us all to love reading and to be curious.
I used to wish for home baked cakes in my packed lunch but now I see that she gave me so much more. She's always supported me 100% in everything I've done and encouraged me to aim high without ever pressuring me. She and my dad have a really strong partnership and I hope I can be as good a mother as she has been. Now that I face losing her far too young I wish I had never taken her for granted.

A strong and clever woman who had a seemingly perfect childhood and yet never had a real relationship with her own mother. She didn't want to repeat that and managed it. One of the very finest people in my life. I'm lucky she's mine.

My mother didn't want a daughter (or grandaughter, she got 2)....prefers males.

Spent all her time putting me down, emotionally abusive, paranoid.

When she had a fallout with my brother it was me that had to pick up the pieces and did all the running around for her for 5 years.

The minute she reconciled with him I was no longer needed.

She attempted suicide 18 months ago then told me she did it because I am such a terrible daughter.

I could go on..... My father (who she divorced when I was 8) is equally as bad. I have been n/c with him (he lives in another country) for many many years.

Thats 2 funerals I will not be attending.

She was awesome. She gave up a lot for our family. She taught me to be an excellent host and to enjoy a glass or seven of wine. She loved my DS. As I grow older I wonder how she felt when we were young and I wish wish wish I could ask her. I miss her every day. Fucking cancer.

My Mum was a victim of the Catholic church Magdalen Laundry girls. Believe me they do not produce good mother material.

Schizophrenic manic depressive with paranoid tendencies, potentially a danger to others. Fiercely proud of her offspring and savagely undermining of them. Nasty, cruel woman who could be very cosy and a lot of fun. Wildly intelligent and articulate, most of her talents wasted. Beautiful, 'fabulous' and extreme. Totally adoring of her husband, from the first to the last. An abused child, writing in 2006 of the shame she felt at her father still being inside her, though he died in 1988; a would-be enabler and displacer. Damaged, bad woman whom I loved but could hardly tolerate. November 1934 - March 2014

My Mam........selfless, strong, shy, clever, compassionate. There are not enough words for my Mam. She turned 80 this year. My wonderful Dad (they would have been married 60 years in August) died on April 5th this year and my wonderful Mam has advanced Alzheimers.

We have got her into a local nursing home. She says she likes it but would like to run away and find my Dad

This world would be a much worse place without my wonderful Mam. I owe everything to her and my Dad.

Treasure your parents while they are still here. My world is empty without my Dad. xxxx

My mum leads by example. Through hard work and perseverance she makes the world a better place. Her business paid all its staff a "living wage" before it was fashionable. She works just as hard in her voluntary roles - she has given her time and passion week after week for more than fifty years. She has an inquisitive mind and loves to learn and create, she took up canoeing at sixty and orienteering at seventy. She is writing a book.

She inspires me to be a better person and she has shown me that with determination and graft ordinary people can make a difference. I am extremely proud to be her daughter.

I feel sorry for her.
She is - and has been - a deeply unhappy woman for as long as I can remember.
I wish I felt anything else.

A simply amazing woman.

She's had a horrible life, I know I couldn't have coped with a tenth of the things she's had to go through. She brought four children up by herself without two pennies to rub together. She was the mum all the kids on the estate went to with injured birds, injured rabbits etc. She taught us all to read and write before we started school and installed a love of books in us. She doesn't overtly praise us, but we all know how proud she is of us and how much she loves us. She has a wicked sense of humour and can make me cry with laughter. She's fun. She takes my nieces puddle jumping and buys them fart machines. She has the patience of a saint and would do anything to help someone. She's utterly useless at anything to do with technology but can grow anything at all. I trust her opinion of people implicitly and always end up regretting it if I don't follow her advice.

I'm incredibly lucky to have her and I thank my lucky stars every day she's my mum.