Daughter Detox

by Peg Streep

  In answer to the question “What did your mother miss out on?,” one of my readers posted: “I read this and immediately began to cry. What a new idea for me: My mom missed out. I’ve been so focused on how I’ve missed out on having a loving mother. But it also touches me deeply because it touches that core belief that I am unworthy. And makes me think: Maybe I’m not unworthy.” Many took it as an opportunity to catalogue their gifts and strengths, which I would encourage you to do as well: “She missed knowing me. Knowing how generous and loyal I am.” “She missed my empathy. My sense of humor. My drive.” “She missed the opportunity to be loved unconditionally, or as unconditionally as possible.” “My mother has missed out knowing what a loving daughter she had in me, but it was never acknowledged, for whatever reason. I could have made her life much easier or should I say much more fulfilled, as a mother of seven. I am generous, to a fault, but that much she did know about me, and she used it against me. Does this make sense?”

  In a thoroughly unscientific way, I’ve rounded up the main themes daughters raised in thinking about what their mothers lost by being unloving. There are many more, of course. If you are ready to think about this, it’s a reflection that can yield a great deal of clarity. Remember that this isn’t an exercise meant to make you feel sorry for your mother but to strengthen your own self-compassion, encourage you to mother yourself, and to see yourself as you truly are.

  ♦ Sharing in her daughter’s life

  Yes, here is the great payoff for a loving mother—to see the child you’ve brought into the world make her own choices, succeed and sometimes stumble, and be a part of it all.

  ♦ Really knowing her child

  Being intimate with anyone is a terrific opportunity to move past the confines of our own skins and ways of perceiving the world. But there is something very special about knowing someone from the very beginning. This is undoubtedly biased, but the world gets brighter when I see the daughter I know and love. Her insights and reactions remind me of the limitations of my own points of view and help me—even at this age—to keep on growing.

  ♦ Watching her daughter flower (and seeing the role she played)

  There’s an enormous difference between seeing your child as an extension of yourself or someone you have to “mold” into shape as some unloving mothers do and playing the role of gardener as your child grows. A good gardener provides her with the love, support, resources, and protection she needs to become herself. And yes, it’s fine to feel pride in what you’ve been able to give your daughter.

  One daughter offered this insight: “My mother had me because it was the thing to do. She missed the look of love in a child’s eye, a warm hug, endless artwork made at school or at home. Mother’s Day cards which were made from love, not forced because of another adult telling me I had to do it. Little love notes under a pillow because little daughters are silly that way. Tea parties and long talks of where fairies come from. She missed me , but the world has me now. I just need to be a shining star for myself and my daughters.”

  ♦ Having fun and joy with (and because of) her daughter

  Yes, the dismissive, hypercritical, absent, or “it’s all about me” mothers miss out on the fabulous company an adult daughter can be. I’m not being a Pollyanna here and saying my daughter never makes me crazy or that we never fight; we do. The arguments are epic when they happen, but we easily resolve them. The rest, folks, is what my mother missed—the stuff of life that fills your heart with joy and puts a smile on your very soul.

  As one 30-year-old daughter put it: “Well, I think that she missed out on a wonderful friendship. I have a couple of girlfriends who have really great and fun relationships with their moms. I was jealous of how easy, nurturing, and natural these relationships were. The relationship I had with my mother was mostly insufferable. So all my life I was jealous of my friends because my mom wasn’t my friend. I couldn’t talk to her about anything. I couldn’t share with her my insecurities. I couldn’t count on her support. She was cold, she was judgmental, she was hypercritical, and a lot of the time she was downright mean. Had she been an actual friend or boyfriend, I would have dumped her a long time ago! So my mom missed out on what could have been a warm and wonderful friendship. A friendship that could have added more meaning and fullness to her life.”

  In the end, here’s the truth: You weren’t the only one who missed out. Really. Keep it in mind on your journey toward healing.

  THE THORNY QUESTION OF FORGIVENESS

  I think forgiveness is a personal choice, and there is no yes or no answer. For me, personally, I think that no matter how I or anyone else defines the word “forgiveness,” to me, it feels like it excuses what was done, and I just can’t use that word .

  ~Leslie, 41

  There’s probably no subject more fraught than the question of forgiveness in any situation where you feel deeply wronged or betrayed. It’s especially true when the question is asked apropos of a mother whose cardinal responsibility was to love and take care of you, and who failed you in ways that matter, the effects of which stay with you from childhood into adulthood. “To err is human, to forgive divine,” wrote Alexander Pope, echoing what is essentially a cultural trope. The ability to forgive, particularly in the wake of egregious hurt or violation, is usually understood as a marker of moral and spiritual evolution, and is endowed with specific authority by its inclusion in the Judeo-Christian tradition and specifically in the Lord’s Prayer.

  Recognizing the cultural bias is important since the unloved daughter will feel the pressure to forgive her mother. It can come from close friends, acquaintances, relatives, strangers, and sometimes even a therapist; her efforts to forgive may be fueled by her own need to show herself as morally superior somehow to her mother as well.

  But even though there seems to be a consensus that forgiveness constitutes the high road, there’s also a fair amount of confusion about what forgiveness is and isn’t. Does it absolve a person of wrongdoing or excuse her? Or is it about something else? Is forgiveness about the other person, or is it about the person professing it? Is it about letting go of anger? Does forgiving give you an advantage that vengefulness doesn’t? Does forgiving someone turn you into a patsy or an enabler? What’s the difference between forgiving and forgetting? Do you have to forgive in order to heal? What happens if you can’t forgive?

  These are questions philosophers, psychologists, and ordinary folk like you and me have tried to answer.

  THE PSYCHOLOGY OF FORGIVENESS

  I’m getting to the point of genuine forgiveness because I can’t hang on to my abusive past if I want a better future. It doesn’t excuse the doings she did to me, but I deserve the freedom to have peace and love in my heart that I never learned from her .

  ~Deidre, 50

  At the beginning of their history, humans were more likely to survive in groups than as isolated singletons or couples so it’s been proposed that forgiveness emerged as a prosocial behavior; revenge or retribution doesn’t just separate you from the transgressor and his allies but might, in fact, run counter to the communal interests of the tribe. In an article by Jeni L. Burnette and others, the researchers hypothesized that forgiveness as a strategy might have evolved as a function of calculating the risks of revenge against the possible benefits of the relationship. The thinking would go something like this: The younger guy has poached your mate in your tribe of hunter/gatherers, but it occurs to you that he is also one of the strongest men in the tribe and very useful in flood season. What to do? Use revenge as a deterrent against future encroachments or bet on the value of his future cooperation and go with forgiveness? In a series of experiments, the team did find that, among the college students who participated, there was a calculation of exploitation risk and relationship value that fostered considering forgiveness.

  Other studies show that certain personality traits actually make some people more likely to forgive than others or, more precisely, more prone to believe in forgiveness as a help
ful and useful strategy after someone has wronged you. One article, by the psychologist Michael McCullough, suggests that people who thrive in the realm of relationships are more forgiving. Ditto people who are emotionally stable and, not surprisingly, those who are more religious and spiritual. The researchers also assert that there are specific psychological processes at play when people forgive: empathy for the transgressor, the ability to give the transgressor the benefit of the doubt (being generous in both the appraisal of the wrongdoer’s behavior and the severity of the wrong itself), and the tendency not to ruminate about the betrayal or wrong. Although the article doesn’t mention attachment, it’s worth noting that the insecurely attached daughter isn’t likely to be able to process events in these ways.

  A meta-analytic review also suggests that there’s a connection between self-control and forgiveness. The thinking here is that since the impulse to be vengeful is more “primitive,” being constructive instead is a sign of self-control. Frankly, this sounds like the cultural bias at work, but more on that anon.

  THE KISS OF THE PORCUPINE AND OTHER INSIGHTS

  How can you forgive a mother who not only refuses to acknowledge the hurt you suffered by her actions, but is shocked that you think your childhood was painful and she was cruel to you? I refuse to validate her treatment of me. I choose to self-parent and love the child within. I love her and care for her the way she deserves with kindness and time and care. This takes so much energy and thought and is, at times, difficult. If only I was parented well to begin with. How can I possibly let go of myself and prove her right with my forgiveness? I do not hang on to a bucket of burden and hate, I have worked through and processed my emotions around my childhood and will continue to do so by keeping the little me close, but I cannot offer forgiveness to her while she is in denial of her mean, cruel treatment of me .

  ~ Amanda

  Frank Fincham, an expert on forgiveness, offers up the image of two kissing porcupines as emblematic of the human conundrum. Imagine the two on a frigid night, snuggling to stay warm, enjoying the closeness, until one’s quill pierces the other’s skin. Ouch! Since humans are social creatures, we make ourselves vulnerable to the “ouch!” moment in the quest for intimacy. Fincham carefully parses what forgiveness is and isn’t, and his definitions may be pertinent to those of you struggling with the question.

  Forgiveness isn’t denial or pretending the hurt didn’t happen but, in fact, confirms the hurt because forgiveness wouldn’t otherwise be warranted. Additionally, forgiveness confirms the act or transgression as intentional since unintentional acts don’t require forgiveness. Forgiveness doesn’t, Fincham argues, imply reconciliation or reunion; while it’s true that reconciliation requires forgiveness, you can forgive someone and have nothing to do with them in the future. Finally—and this one seems important—forgiveness isn’t a single act but a process. Why? Because it requires managing all the negative emotions that are a consequence of the act and substituting goodwill for the impulse to strike back. It’s a process that involves a considerable amount of emotional and cognitive work and so, as Fincham notes, the statement “I am trying to forgive you” is especially true and meaningful.

  THE DOWNSIDE TO FORGIVENESS

  I have forgiven my mother time and time again. I went back hoping for a different outcome, but alas, it never happened that way. I understand she wasn’t born this person, that things happened, choices were made, something is broken inside her. I feel she’s too far gone in this persona of me, me, me. It was a revolving door for me. I tried to get away, but then some crisis would arise, and of course, I was right there to save the day because that’s who I am and she was my mom. Then the crisis would pass and things went back to “normal.” I lived this way for way too long. I have finally cut ties and phone numbers .

  ~Susan, 50

  Does forgiveness always work? I think you already know the answer to this, either from personal experience or from anecdote; the short answer is “no.” But let’s turn to research to get a bead on the downside to forgiveness, in an article appropriately titled “The Doormat Effect,” which can be considered a cautionary tale for daughters who are considering both forgiving their mothers and remaining in the relationship.

  In a bit of contrarian research—the vast majority of studies look at the benefits of forgiveness—Laura Luchies, Eli Finkel, and others looked at whether forgiveness was as universal a panacea as it appeared. Not altogether surprisingly, they found that forgiveness is only beneficial when certain conditions are met—that is, the transgressor makes amends and works to change his or her behavior. If that happens, then the self-concept and self-respect of the forgiving person remain intact. But when the offender doesn’t—or, even worse, sees forgiveness as an open invitation to keep breaching the trust in the relationship—the person’s self-concept is understandably eroded and he or she will feel used and stupid. Despite the body of research seeming to recommend forgiveness as a panacea, they wrote, “[T]he responses of both victims and perpetrators are influential following a betrayal. Victims’ self-respect and self-concept clarity are determined not only by their own decision whether to forgive or not but also by their perpetrators’ decision whether to act in a manner that signals that the victim will be safe or valued or not.”

  Unless and until your mother has come to the table, openly acknowledged her treatment of you, and has vowed to work with you to change her ways, it may well be that forgiving is just a way of reestablishing your status as a doormat if you are still in contact.

  THE DANCE OF DENIAL AND FORGIVENESS

  While clinicians and researchers agree that forgiveness of transgressions large and small is a cornerstone of maintaining intimate relationships, especially marriage, certain caveats do apply: The relationship must be one of equals, without an imbalance of power, with equal investment and recognition of the benefits of the connection. By definition, the relationship between the mother and the unloved child isn’t one of equals, not even if the daughter is an adult. She still wants and needs the maternal love and support she didn’t get.

  Forgiveness may actually get in the way of the daughter’s appreciation of how she’s been wounded and her healing. It can become part of the dance of denial, enabling or re-animating the explanations that rationalize and normalize her mother’s words and actions (“She doesn’t know she’s hurting me,” “Her own childhood was lousy so she doesn’t know any better,” “I’m probably too sensitive like she says”). Because the ability to forgive is considered a sign of moral worthiness—setting you apart from the grudge-holders of this world—a daughter may unconsciously believe that showing herself worthy in this way will finally get her what she wants: her mother’s love. This is an enormous issue and quandary for unloved daughters whose religious faith encourages forgiveness in every circumstance.

  So it might not be about whether you forgive your mother but when you do and your deepest motivation for doing so.

  FORGIVENESS AFTER GOING NO-CONTACT

  Forgiveness comes with healing, and healing begins with honesty and self-love. And by forgiveness, I don’t mean saying, “It’s okay what you did because I see you just made a mistake and you had no bad intentions.” That’s the “normal” kind of forgiveness that we exercise every day, because we as human are flawed and we do make mistakes. But this kind of forgiveness is different. This forgiveness is saying, “I see the truth of what you did, it was horrible and unacceptable, and has caused me irreparable harm; but I am moving on with my healing in life and letting you go.” That is the forgiveness I am working towards as I heal from severe trauma. But again, forgiveness is not the goal; healing is the goal. Forgiveness comes as a result of healing .

  ~Amy

  Many unloved daughters speak of forgiveness as a final step in letting go; from their descriptions, it’s less about forgiving their mothers for their behavior than choosing no longer to focus on them as central to their lives. It’s true enough that continuing to feel anger—feeling the ac
tive sting of how miserably your mother treated you, the ongoing appreciation of how terribly unfair it was that she was your mother in the first place—keeps you emotionally in the relationship even if you’ve abandoned it. In this scenario, forgiveness becomes the ultimate act of disengagement.

  One daughter, though, was careful to draw a distinction between forgiveness and disengagement, a point of view worth considering: “Here’s the thing. I’m not turning the other cheek and offering the olive branch (ever again). The closest I can get to forgiveness is ‘let go of the story’ in the Buddhist sense. Ruminating about ‘it’ builds a rut in the brain, so I stay in the moment. When I catch myself thinking about ‘it,’ I come back to the present moment, perhaps by focusing on my breath. Again and again and again. As many times as it takes. Depression is thinking about the past, and anxiety is thinking about the future. Mindfulness has been the answer. Compassion also stops the rut-building process in the brain, so I think about what must have happened to my mother. But I do that for the benefit of my brain. Forgiveness? No.”

  So, finally, the decision whether to forgive your mother is a complex one and one that depends on motivations and intentions perhaps more than not. I’m often asked if I’ve forgiven my mother, who is long gone from this earth, and the truth is that I haven’t. I find intentional cruelty toward children an unforgivable act, and she certainly was guilty of that so no forgiveness there. But if one component of forgiveness is letting go, that’s another matter. The truth is that I never, ever think about my mother unless I am writing about her or I do something really nice for my daughter and I remind her to “thank Rita Streep.” Yes, that’s both true and ironic because without her miserable example, I might not have been a dedicated parent.