Being A Mom From A Daughter’s Perspective

Mother's Day isn't just a date; it's a roller coaster ride that lasts a lifetime!

I'm not here to share my story as a mom, yet I want to share my experience thus far with loving my imperfect mom and mothering my own kids as her daughter.

The picture was taken roughly 50 years ago, and the beautiful woman without a smile is my mom, Cappy. Looking back through my scroll photos, I notice there aren't many pictures of my mom, me, or us together, as we're usually the ones behind the scenes, making the magic happen and capturing the moments.

My thoughts, feelings, and experiences with my mom have changed drastically, from sour and salty to sweet and tangy. Like most mother-daughter scenarios, we've had a complicated relationship. Yet, since adopting my Shift Towards Clarity process, not only have I changed how I approach the relationship with my mom, but she has also significantly transformed how she mothers me and grandmother my boys.

Here's a little backstory. My parents married in April 1970, and I was born in March 1971, so my mom didn't have a chance to get her bearings with her new partnership with my Dad and create a bank of memories with him as just "them" before I came along to celebrate their first anniversary together. She's never mentioned this to me, and I feel it's relevant to how she parented me, her one and only child.

When I was growing up, I wasn't nurtured with hugs, snuggles, or I love you. Yet, I was raised by an uber-organized woman who made herself available to anyone and everyone who needed help. She is creative behind the camera and is like a human google. She taught me how to be a great cook and gardener. And she has shown up whenever I needed her to help me through a medical experience or move across the country.

My mom grew up with a "white glove" Southern Mama, and what little I know about her life growing up and her relationship with my grandmother tells me that she did her best with what she knew. Some of the habits she was raised under still filtered through to how she raised me. She had a firm grip on expectations and how and who I should and shouldn't be, leaving little space for me to discover who I was supposed to be until later in my life.

For example, she made sure I had to do all the house and yard chores before any fun could be had. I remember one time in middle school, I finished my chores on a Saturday afternoon and went to my new friend Shana's to hang out. Not 15 minutes after arriving at Shana's, my mom called me to come home because I hadn't thoroughly wiped the kitchen sink down. This was one of those ridiculous moments that I stored in "I'm never gonna be good enough" accounts in my bank of memories. This was when I learned that fun and relaxing weekends were allowed only after I learned how to do my chores properly, with emphasis on properly. 

Growing up with my mom, I craved a relationship I saw other friends and cousins have with their moms, which seemed more like a place of friendship, but that dream was crushed when she told me one day that we would never be friends because she was my mom.

I watched my mom do countless acts of service for senior citizens, family members, and organizations that helped animals; she even baked cookies at the holidays for the convicts who lived in the jail down the street. Her energy was parallel to the Energizer Bunny. She would go, go, go, and then collapse. She has lifelong friendships and would help out any neighbor in need.

At a young age, I remember my mom seemed like she was always holding back, afraid of what "might" happen, worrying about things that never happened, yet she seemed to want more out of life. She always had an opinion about how everyone else should live, yet it always felt like she was holding herself back from living her best life. She hid behind many excuses and expectations, which I believe she was taught by the generations before her, not knowing she had choices.

When I met my now-husband, Dave, his son, Ryan, was about 10 years old. He's an intelligent, fun, fantastic kid who was bounced between his Dad, mom, grandparents, etc. This felt all too familiar, as I was bounced around between grandparents and aunts and uncles growing up. This is relevant to this story because when I moved in with them to begin our life together, I remember a group of Dave's friends telling me they were happy I was there to add stability to Ryan's life and teach him some manners. WHAT! My first thought was, "Not my job, ladies; he already has a plethora of people managing his life." 

Being a stepparent is interesting. You choose to be with your spouse, but they come with a second family that may be difficult to navigate, depending on the personalities involved. I remember trying to talk to my mom about the dynamics one day, and her response was, well, you made your bed, now deal with it—and she wasn't wrong, yet compassion for understanding was never an option she shared with me.

When my boys were young, until around ages 3 and 4, I did the same thing as my mom, parenting from a place of expectations and exhaustion. I also realized I was parenting from the pain I had been dragging with me from my past experiences with my parents. And then, one day, I woke up and realized I had the chance to make new choices. I began listening to my gut, which guided me to discover new ways to get through the day, find new solutions, be present, and have more fun.

We had lived in a different state since 1994 when I moved from Illinois to Colorado after college, then from Colorado to South Carolina, and from South Carolina to now Arkansas. The distance helped our relationship bloom as needed throughout the years. However, I still held onto much spite and confusion, wishing we had a closer, more thoughtful, and respectful relationship.

My mom was there when our boys were born, and she continues to show up with her menu of expectations because that's all she knows. When the boys were little, she was fantastic with them, showering them with trinkets and postcards and spending time with them doing backyard shenanigans, Mardi Gras parades, snuggle time reading books, and so much more. But yet, there always seems like a distance she has kept with even them until I realized this is all she knows.

My relationship with my mom isn't unique, yet it's unique to me, and it's more fulfilling today than I ever imagined it could be because, over the last few years, I have been making new choices.

In 2019, I went through a tough breakup with some girlfriends from college, pushing me to make significant changes in my life. I was ready to break out of living by bouncing around expectational silos and how everyone else thought I "should live," and this is when my program Shifting Toward Clarity was born. 

I recognized that when I became honest about the facts of the past and acknowledged how my choices kept me stagnant in the present, I realized I was ready to discover what I truly wanted to do and how to live the rest of my life. Now, I live from clarity of authenticity, and I have an abundance of grace and compassion for those still struggling with their own choices. I have learned that vulnerability is GOLD!

Now that I'm living from a place of authenticity, I no longer have a firm grip on making it appear that I'm happy because I'm confident with all my thoughts, emotions, and choices. I speak up or move on when needed. I no longer need to share opinions unless they are asked of me. I know our perspectives may not match, but if your integrity matches your character, I'm grateful for you to be part of my life.

Things have changed since my parents moved to Little Rock so that they would be closer and I could help care for them as they age. And the change has been incredible. 

Spending time with my mom is a gift. In the past, I would judge and blame her for so much of the pain I felt inside, but today, all of those feelings and thoughts have softened into gentleness and understanding. I know she is doing her best to live her best life through what she knows, as am I. 

I am grateful she is the woman who has been there with me since the beginning and will be with me until the end. 

If you struggle with your relationship with your mom because of death, distance, or disrespect, you still have the chance to change how YOU feel about your mom by doing the work to open up your awareness to see and feel how amazing you are. After all, you wouldn't be here if it were for your mom.

My mom created one person, and I have made multiple people. And if that's not classified as a superpower, it must be done pronto!