What If We Saw Our Mothers As Just Women?
Mothers and Daughters have a bond that is difficult to define yet impossible to label under a single emotion
All women have a complicated relationship with their mothers. I know I do. The subject is a bit convoluted to discuss at most times. We grow up loving her, admiring her, wanting to be her — just perfect at everything. As we evolve, we start finding little things in her that irk us, disturb our normal calm, we start resenting her for the smallest reasons. Why did she not speak up? Why does she always carry with herself, an air of doubt? Why is she not more confident, more vocal? I would like it if she was more assertive.
Earlier this month, a lot of us made that customary call to our mothers, wishing her on Mother’s Day. Momentarily it felt good. That I did my duty of being the loving, caring child — called her, hugged her, took her out to dinner. Mother’s Day like all other “days” comes with a tag of acknowledgement. You did well if you followed the usual route and gave your parents a reason to smile.
The Puzzle of Parenthood
I am not a parent. And you know the singular thing associated with parenthood that scares me the most? It is the idea of being judged by a whatever-year- old on every aspect of life. Such is the relationship of a mother daughter. I always wanted my mother to be more assertive and more confident. My usual reaction to anything she tells me, is, I would have done this, instead of that. But of late I have been thinking about why as a culture, we have such strong entitlement to our mother’s lives and why do mothers often have an equal degree of entitlement to their daughter’s lives? Does it stem from the roots of a shared sense of burden of womanhood?
I feel men love their mothers a bit like — unconditionally. Women often struggle with the unconditional part of it. We will never accept it to others. We all vouch for the fact that we are what we are because of our mothers. And we love her to the moon and back. While that is true, there is also a tiny part of us that want to break free. We want to chart our own course. Be our own person without having to live up to our mother’s standards.
I sometimes also wonder if a woman wanting to have her own identity separate from her parent is such a massive deal. Women go through rounds of guilt and passivity before the society finally beats the indomitable part out of our systems. Why are expectations so huge for women to turn out just as loving and forgiving as a mother? And what about those women who are mothers and yet find it impossible to succumb to societal ideals of selfless sacrifice?
Motherhood beyond Sacrifice
Before my mother had me, she was just young girl with a vibrant personality. After me, her identity somehow got fused with mine. I find it fascinating yet deeply discomforting that the loss of identity happened only to my mother and not my father. My father continued on the path that he was travelling on and yet, my mother and I, for next many years were just one entity. Somehow her dreams and aspirations took shape in my very nascent personality till the time that I left home to go to university.
And then she was left alone with a void that she couldn’t quite understand. It’s been many years since that initial separation of parent-offspring, and yet till date it is hard to draw a boundary with my mother. I also invariably think my expectations of how our relationship should evolve, are misplaced. Maybe I will have the same trouble if and when I have a daughter one day. But yes, on most days I find empathy difficult.
In most South Asian cultures, this is a common norm — to have a complicated relationship with your parent. The baggage of generational expectations, idealism, wanting to prove oneself even if it is only a moot-point, is so very strong. It is as if children of these communities grow up with an invisible thread pulling them towards a gigantic median.
It is difficult to break-free. Believe me! But we all try, everyday, in our million little ways. Just like our parents did, when they were our age.
Learning to let our Mothers be themselves
So this year, when I made my customary Mother’s Day call to my mother, I wondered why as an individual she needs to be wished on a day that ties her identity around mine. The acknowledgement of her contributions as a mother to my life, is not something that can be measured by a cursory wish on a random day in a calendar year. Mothers should be recognized and celebrated as individuals, as women in their own right, and not around a relationship with their child. The sanctification of sacrifice is something that irks me. In a lot of cases, that sacrifice goes unacknowledged in a hundred different ways even if we take her out to dinner on Mother’s Day. Maybe the celebration needs to be thought through. Maybe we need to see our mothers as women too. Capable of vulnerability, hurt and mistakes — that we often make. After all, our mothers are us, in a different life, in a different place.
Until next time. Thank you for reading.
