The humans I work with tell me they want to be less reactive.

That they want to take things their mothers do and say less personally.

It's what I wanted for myself, as well. What I didn't know is that I ALSO wanted not to beat myself up and hurt myself with shame if I wasn't successful at being less reactive.

Story time...

Years ago – probably 15 or so – I was visiting my mother. She was in her kitchen and I was outside on the deck in front of her kitchen. I saw her looking out the window and I walked up and smiled at her.

She looked at me with a sneer on her face, lifted her hand, and raised her middle finger. I don't remember what happened next because – although I didn't know it at the time – my nervous system went into survival mode. I froze.

That's why I don't remember.

What I DO remember is that later I was both furious and devastated, a familiar set of emotions when it comes to my mother. I told anyone who would listen what she had done.

The responses from others ranged from shock ("What kind of mother does that??!")...

...to practical ("That's about her not you.")...

...to quizzical ("Why are you taking it so personally? I would have laughed if my mother did that.").

I shamed myself for years whenever I thought about that moment (and others like it) because I took it so personally. Which in my mind made me pathetic. I mean, I'd read The Four Agreements, one of which is "Don't take anything personally."

Logically I knew her behavior wasn't personal, but in my body it sure as hell felt that way.

The fury and devastation that came later were the result of me buying into my mother's story about me...that I wasn't worthy of her respect.

Cue the shame. Cue the self-destructive behavior.

Fast-forward to Christmas Day 2021.

I called to wish her a Merry Christmas.

She has caller ID so she knows when I am calling. When she said "hello" her tone was flat. I felt my body tense.

"Hi Mom...Merry Christmas," I said.

"Merry Christmas," she said in a mocking tone I associate with the sneer and raised middle finger. Contempt.

I paused.

My breathing became more shallow. My eyes sought out my husband's eyes. He heard it too.

"Are you there?" she asked.

I remembered who I am and what I value (thank you self concept work!). I remembered that no one speaks to me that way.

"Do you want to talk or shall I hang up?" I asked in reply.

We then had a brief conversation about the things we normally talk about: the weather, what we made for dinner, etc. She told me she feels trapped by all the rules in the new senior living apartment complex she lives in. She's bored. It's a hard time of year.

~~~

I have chosen to do my own work.

I am willing to pay attention to what's happening my body.

I am willing to know myself and my triggers.

I have immersed myself in the language of trauma and how nervous systems work.

I consistently practice simple somatic/regulating techniques.

I regularly do thought work.

I re-mother myself often.

As a result, my nervous system has more capacity and I am able to catch myself sooner when my body perceives a threat.

I am able to RESPOND in a way that I like and respect.

Choosing to talk to my mother after her snarky greeting was not about pleasing her...I didn't do it out of fear. I let her know that I heard her snark and that she could either drop it or I'd hang up. I did it for me. And I felt like a goddamn Queen.

After our call I spent a few minutes thinking about why my mother's tone of voice sometimes triggers a survival response in me.

I suspect that after she and my father divorced she was dealing with a lot of stress and the judgment from her family. Given her own childhood trauma, she didn't deal well. She was working a full-time job and needed me to be in nursery school (and then Kindergarden), or at the home of the family she paid to take care of me. I suspect she drank a lot in the evenings and "checked out." She probably felt a range of emotions from annoyance to hopelessness to contempt because she couldn't (and still can't) stand what she perceives as weakness or neediness (in herself or others). She probably felt trapped. And ashamed. And I suspect that when she was in that mode, her tone of voice and her behavior was frightening to me. I was very much alone and have very few memories of that time.

And whereas my nervous system default is "freeze," her's is "fight." She goes on the offensive. When I was a little girl, my nervous system dealt with that threat by freezing and/or fawning. And it still does!

And then I get angry. It's not that I was taking her words, tone of voice, and middle finger personally, my body was responding to what it perceived as a threat and I learned to shame myself for it.

There's much to celebrate here but best of all is knowing that no matter how I respond (or react) I won't shame and hurt myself. I think too highly of myself to do that.

And THAT is how we take care of ourselves in our mother-daughter relationships.

Learn with me in the Mother Lode.

Much, much love,

Karen

​Read previous Love Notes by clicking here.

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