Mom Guilt

When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. I Corinthians 13:11 (NLT)

I often say there is no guilt like motherhood guilt. Whether my failures as a parent are real or perceived, they have the same affect – a well-aimed shot in the foot. Nothing can send me spiraling down an emotional tunnel of guilt as fast as seeing one of my children (now adults) struggle in any area of their lives. My immediate reaction is to blame myself, reasoning that if I had done something differently, they would automatically know how to handle every problem they will ever face. If I had my way, they would not face any problems at all.

Obviously, this is the idealistic, childish thinking of an abused little girl, not a wise and mature woman. This truth became all-too-real to me after a recent phone call from my daughter informing me of a painful dilemma she faced when a friend betrayed her trust. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, she called me and her stepdad for advice. While I remained calm on the phone, the bullets of shame, which attracted the bullets of guilt, fear, and depression (anger turned inward), were already loading my gun. And I pulled the emotional trigger without giving it a second thought.

The sad thing is that I was so busy blaming myself for real and imaginary deficits in my parenting and training – Did I adequately prepare her for life's challenges? Did I encourage her enough to believe in herself and trust her own judgment? Did my unresolved issues negatively affect her too much? – that I couldn't recognize nor celebrate the fact that she was maturely reasoning her way through the situation and deciding the best course of action for her.

I wanted so much to go back and redo it all, unblock the childhood trauma I suffered, unearth the repressed memories I carried, unlearn timidity and shame, be a better parent. I lamented the reality that no matter how hard I try I cannot change the past. I worried about whether I am presently exemplifying boundaries, assertiveness, self-esteem, and hardest for me – self-compassion.

It was clear to me that I needed to get by myself and work through this barrage of feelings right away! If ever there was a time to journal, which for me is a form of prayer, it was now. I ran to my bedroom and began furiously writing, letting it all come up at will.

While writing, I prayed out loud, “Lord, give them what I could not and cannot, and help me to stay strong and do what I can.” Dismayed, I tried to encourage myself with the truth that when I know better, I do better. I reminded myself that I am a work in progress and so are my children.

Through tears, I kept writing. And as I wrote, I began to realize that my daughter was learning an unfortunate, yet necessary, lesson in enforcing healthy boundaries, even when the person violating them is not willing to acknowledge their wrongdoing. I reminded myself that she would grow and benefit from the experience. So although I, as a mother, hate to see my children struggle in any way, I understand that they also must live and learn. And I must trust that God will take care of them just like He takes care of me.

The whole incident showed me that it is now time for me to begin the difficult and often painful process of “putting away childish things” when it comes to my children. It is time to start speaking, thinking, and reasoning like the adult survivor I am when I evaluate my performance as a mother. Maybe it's time for me to stop judging myself and remember that I did the best I could. It's time for me to change my perspective and focus on the truth that although I was greatly affected by the childhood trauma I experienced, which naturally affected my ability to parent, I am not to blame for every difficult thing that happens to my children.

That day, I decided to let go of the false guilt and celebrate the fact that I raised a strong, confident daughter who is not afraid to stand up for herself and enforce her personal boundaries. In the end, she handled the situation with courage and wisdom, confronting the person with grace and truth. Maybe I didn't do so badly as a parent after-all!

Another unexpected outcome of that incident was my decision to start this blog! I reasoned that if I was struggling in this way, maybe other survivors were as well. I decided that revealing my own issues might help others to be honest about their own. One cannot work to change what one does not acknowledge.

If you are an abuse survivor like me, I probably don't need to tell you about carrying the heavy weights of false guilt and false responsibility. You know all-too-well how they seem to be inextricably woven into the fabric of your being, expertly stealing your joy and peace. I hope you will decide not to continue to let that happen. I encourage you to practice laying them down by focusing on changing your perspective.

For example, if as a parent you feel like you have made more than your share of mistakes, remind yourself that no parent is perfect. If you can truly say that you did your best to raise your children well, what else is there to say? You had your issues, and you might need to apologize for one or two things, but not EVERYTHING! Decide not to let regret and remorse blind you to the amazing person you are. You had the strength to survive; now you are working to overcome. Even if your kids don't acknowledge or appreciate your efforts to grow into wholeness, they will benefit from your commitment to change. The healthier you become the greater positive affect you will have on them.

Just as no parent is perfect, no child is perfect. When we realize that we don't need them to be flawless to validate us as parents, we allow them to be themselves. We give them room to make mistakes, and learn and grow from them if they choose to do so. The choice is theirs. The older they get, the more independent they become, the more they get to choose how they conduct their lives. That can be a scary prospect for those of us who were conditioned to try to control the people around us in order to feel a sense of emotional security. But we can put away those childish needs by learning to accept ourselves and our children for who we are and celebrating the beauty of our unique perspectives.

Peace and blessings until next month,

Janet

Published 01/01/2017 by Janet Lyn Boswell, BA, CTRC