Weaving the Brokenness - Healing the Wound of Mother Abandonment

My daughter puts her arms around me, her brown eyes soft and beckoning. Her rounded belly and motherly curves rest against me, and for a moment I choke up. She is pregnant with a girl baby whose middle name will be Joy like mine. She will be my first grand-daughter, and my second grandchild.

I was named Joy by my great-grandmother, Blanche, the mother of my grandmother Lulu, who spent much of her childhood living with Blanche’s mother. When Lulu was a young woman, she abandoned her daughter Josephine. Josephine abandoned me when I was four years old, leaving me with her mother. What a heritage!

When I look at my daughter, I see the images of my foremothers in my mind—my beautiful but insensitive mother, my intelligent, breaking-the-rules grandmother. I remember their terrible fights and broken dishes that went flying when my mother came to visit, and I think of my grandmother’s deathbed, where there was no forgiveness between them. I think of how my mother didn’t want anyone to know she had a child, and how I tried to win her love until she died.

I was able to break the chains of abandonment, but I still carry within me the memories of these passionate but disturbed women whose genes I carry. I am the last remaining witness to know and remember this heritage. We are the first mother-daughter generation to hug, kiss, talk over our disagreements, apologize, forgive, and have a loving relationship. For this I give thanks every day.

My grandmother and mother didn’t want grandchildren either. My children were not welcomed, and my mother made it clear the few times she saw my children, they were to keep their identity a secret too. Her passing on the poison to my children woke me up to how cruel and heartless she was. Over the years, I had adjusted to her rejection of me, but when I saw her teach my children not to call her grandmother, and to lie to the people at her apartment about their identity, I snapped. I never tried to get her to accept us again after that. I had to accept that she never would.

This was another pattern. When my grandmother received the telegram announcing my birth, she threw it aside saying, “So the brat is born.” Later, she took me in and raised me, but the feeling that I was living on the edge of societal and familial acceptance settled deep into my bones.

My story is only one such story about this topic—mother-child abandonment. There are many thousands of such stories in the world, people who were abandoned as children. On my book tour for Don’t Call Me Mother—Breaking the Chain of Mother-Daughter Abandonment, people listen with tears in their eyes as I read about the loss and loneliness that I felt as a child, and they cheer me on as I read how I fought to find myself and create a better life. When they come to me afterward to tell me how I have told a part of their story, I understand the tears are for their own childhood losses that are being healed by hearing another’s story. It is gratifying to see that I can use the painful parts of my life to give others hope about creating lives of meaning and joy despite deep early wounds.

If you recognize your story in mine, here are a few healing suggestions


Healing Abandonment

1. Remind yourself of these things:

a. It was not your fault

b. You were not a bad child

c. Your mother may not have realized how deeply this affected you

d. You deserve love

2. Create joy and beauty in your life now.

a. Gather supportive friends and loved ones around you

b. Feed yourself good food, and treat your body well

c. Give yourself birthday parties and moments of celebration

d. Create your own family, whether it is your own children or friends whom you adopt as your new family

e. Appreciate each day as it unfolds


3. Find the help you need to heal your wounds

a. Find a therapist who believes that the past affects the present and can help you work through it

b. Write your story—from your point of view all the way through

c. Illustrate your story with family photos

d. After you write your story, write the story of your mother’s life. Research her life as best you can. Illustrate it with photos.


4. Use visualization, meditation, and prayer to get in touch with the life you want to live, and the blessings of your life

a. Meditate in quiet surroundings each day for at least 10 minutes

b. Read books that inspire you to love and accept yourself

c. Share with others your healing story

Ghost Mothers

So many women talk about their relationships with their mothers—no matter how old they are. For some, their mother, from whom they have supposedly separated long ago, still occupies a central place in the psyche. She’s too close, she’s too much. She has advice, is nosy, and interferes. The daughter wants time away, she wants boundaries, and fights for her separation from her mother.

For others, the mother still occupies the psyche, but with a wrenching kind of longing—a mother that is biological and even sometimes present, but also a mother who is so self-involved as to be emotionally absent, or literally out of the picture. This kind of mother takes up space and energy as a nagging, missing piece, a ghost. Her image hovers, her memory, or perhaps a dream of how it could have been, should have been, but never is.

Which kind of mother do you have?

My mother was a dream. I realize now, 10 years after her death, that I was always trying to get the dream to come true—to have her be warm and huggy, to have her want to know me, to visit me in my house, to know my children. To know me. It never happened. It left a yearning that I played out with men, it left a hole that I tried to fill in many ways.

When I was little, she left me when I was four years old, and once a year appeared in the landscape of my life—I lived with her mother—only to disappear too soon and in a flurry of anger at her own mother, without seeming to notice how hard it was for me.

So many people—men and women—struggle with this kind of emptiness, the burn of anger in the pit of the stomach, the unanswered questions that can’t be asked—why are you like this?

Mothers who are neglectful, selfish, and abandoning do not set out to do these things, they are a result of her own problems, her own pain, and maybe even mental illness. It is hard for us as her child to see this fully, or to forgive it.

How to help to heal the Ghost Mother wound:

1. Learn about your mother’s life—how she became the way she is—though talking with relatives, if she won’t talk to you directly, or by sitting down and hashing through history shown in photos and family albums.

2. Find adoptive mothers who will nurture you, and friends who understand your story.

3. Learn to mother yourself—though therapy, through having children of your own. They will teach you.

4. Write your story. Tell your story. Having witnesses to your story is a part of healing. Seeing compassion in the eyes of others shows you that you are worthy of it, and deserve it.

5. Learn to forgive. Work on it. Work on being yourself and having a life you like and enjoy.

6. Learn to surround yourself with who you like, people who love and like you, and beauty that makes you feel part of the web of life.