Mothers of Mine

I have a mother that I don’t know. I lived an unguided life thus far and only recently found my footing at an undisclosed age. Let’s just say that I’m 25 to acknowledge that I am now an adult. So, I’m a 25-year-old adult who had no relationship with her mother. Add to that, my grandmother, who raised me, didn’t seem to do so for the noblest of reasons. Now, stop! Don’t be sad for me. I promise that I’m okay. No matter how it sounds initially, my story is a happy one. Despite how life began for me, things appeared to have worked out for the better. Ultimately, that’s the most important part of the story. Everything else is just fluff.

As I stated before, I don’t know my mother. I know who she is, I’ve met her, but she is a stranger to me. As a child, I remember crying for her because my grandmother raised me in the strictest, neglectful manner. I’ll explain that later because it isn’t as bad as it sounds. My mother, Linda, was in jail when I learned about her. She offered me nothing of value as a parent because she wasn’t there. When I grew up, I decided that I needed to mend our relationship. I didn’t break it, but I was compelled to fix it to afford myself some normalcy in life. Unfortunately, her focus was on bettering herself and she was either unable or unwilling to be a part of my life. At the time, I convinced everyone that I was fine, but it hurt. My mother was comfortable not having a relationship with me. At least I had my grandmother as she took on the responsibilities of being a mother when my mother, her daughter, failed.

My grandmother took me in when most people her age would have retired. Understandably, she wasn’t the most attentive. Despite conventional luxuries that I missed out on as a child, my siblings and I had a roof over our head, hot meals most nights, and slept in our own beds. When I was young and malleable, my grandmother and I got along well. As I grew up and began thinking for myself, things shifted between the two of us. She no longer understood me because I became my own person. My brothers were constantly getting into trouble because my grandmother spent her days playing on the computer and her nights spending the adoption money at bingo halls. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because, despite the negatives, I am very appreciative of her taking us in. Regardless, it was clear that her reasons had more to do with generating income than taking us in out of love. I was lost as a teenager and young adult. I made a lot of mistakes because I was looking for love that I didn’t get at home. This led to my first pregnancy.

I’m not blaming my mother and grandmother for me getting pregnant, of course. That was the result of actions that I took in search of something that I never received. It wasn’t their fault because my actions are my own. Something changed in me when I got pregnant, though. I wasn’t the worst kid, but I wasn’t the best. I was selfish and blunt. When I found out that I was pregnant, my focus shifted from getting what I needed to providing for my child. My family wasn’t thrilled about my pregnancy. I was the first of all of my siblings to be out on my own. No one congratulated me when I left, and no one was thrilled when I had to come back home, my grandmother especially. I was almost shunned if one can do so while living in the same dwelling with another. She called me names, criticized me for getting pregnant, and left me with no one to talk to about my pregnancy. When my daughter was born, I spent the first year of her life dodging ridicule from the woman that raised me. Then I met someone, and my daughter and I moved in with him. Three years later, that relationship dissolved, and I was left with my daughter and a son. I struggled with post-partum and found no recourse aside from my children’s happiness washing away my frustration with how incapable I felt as a mother.

It dawned on me at some point that in all the difficult situations I’ve been in with my family and how much I struggled with gaining approval from my grandmother that I was actually doing pretty well. I realized that I was taught a lot by the women in my life. My parenting is a direct result of the lack of parenting I had as a child. I wanted to be the opposite of everything that made up my grandmother and my mother. I wanted my children to grow up in circumstances that were 180 degrees different than I experienced. I wanted to be more supportive and encouraging than they were. I wanted to live my life for my children instead of having them live to serve me or my needs. I wanted to be present and assure them that I will always be here. I wanted to love them so much that they never had to search anywhere else for it. I’m accomplishing all that! I don’t want to sound sarcastic, but thanks to my mother and grandmother, I’m the mother that I always wanted to have as a child.

In my life, I’ve learned to accept the negatives for their positive influence. My mother was never there, but without the pain of yearning for her, I don’t know that I would have tried as hard to be a good mom. I’m grateful for her inability or unwillingness to enter back into my life. Had I spent time mending my relationship with her, I may not have had this little girl that mirrors me in every way. My grandmother was not the best guardian to me, but without my upbringing, I would not have had the experiences that color my attitude toward life. Without her shaming me out of her home, I wouldn’t have had the courage to get out on my own and I wouldn’t have had my amazing son who shocks me every day with how smart he is.

I wouldn’t dare fault my mother and grandmother for the life that I had, because I’m appreciative of it all. I can only imagine that my mother’s upbringing was difficult with my grandmother. My grandmother has already confided in me about her rough childhood. As I said, it wasn’t their fault that I got pregnant either time, but without all of the events that led up to my two children, I wouldn’t have had them at all. All of the love that I searched for from my mother and my grandmother never came. But my experiences with them pushed me to a life that provided me with unconditional love for which I could never have asked.

All in all, I am grateful for my mother and grandmother for making me the mother that I am today. I credit them with the shower of love that I receive from my children throughout each day. I am thankful that their actions led me to parenthood where I get to be the mom that I never had and, eventually, the grandmother that I never had. I love those women for not giving me what I needed emotionally because it taught me to give what I never received. I know it sounds odd to be thankful for that, but I am.