Member-only story
How I Survived the Lack of My Mother’s Love
The wound stopped bleeding but the scar endures
I remember that session.
My therapist knew I could handle her being be brutally honest with me.
“You didn’t have your mother’s love when you were a child. Accept you will never get it — it’s time to move on.”
My first reaction was hurt. How could she say that?
It took a few days to sink in until I’d adjusted to accepting there were events (or non-events) that I had no power to change.
How we fool ourselves that we’re “over it”.
At the time I was in my early 40's.
Ten Years After
In 1999, I’d started therapy for the third time as I wasn’t coping with life.
I’d received a letter dripping with love from my mother, inviting me to come back to the UK, she’d look after me until I got back on my feet with a job etc. (Hubby and I had closed our business and times were tough.)
I caught the bait, oblivious to what lay ahead.
I mentioned the letter to my therapist at my next session and told her I’d accepted the invitation.
It horrified her.
