The dilemma I’ve always had a difficult relationship with my mother. She has mental health problems, few friends and feuds with family members. She was physically abusive and mentally controlling when I was young. When I was 16 she pushed me out of a car because I was 10 minutes late to meet her. If things break she won’t get them fixed. Her washing machine broke 15 years ago and she has been hand washing ever since, resulting in RSI.
I went to university, got therapy and “moved on”, although I had self-esteem issues and an eating disorder as a teen. In my 20s I tried to have a relationship with her, but my tolerance for her obsessive behaviour has lowered. I met my husband four years ago and she took an angry dislike to him – since then our relationship has deteriorated. It’s been more than a year since we’ve been in contact.
Now I’m pregnant and others expect me to make amends. I feel little compulsion to do this. Maybe it’s better to live without her to protect my child and myself.
Mariella replies This is so tricky. I’d love to say that life is short, we need to forgive and forget and family is ultimately all we have. But I don’t think that’s true. Often family can be the spring from which our troubles spill forth.
Having a baby doesn’t turn you into a perfect parent, or even a better-functioning human being. In many respects it can exacerbate character flaws that already exist. All the experiences you carry from childhood will heavily influence how you parent. There may be no such thing as a perfect parent, just as there is no such thing as a perfect human being, but some take their dysfunction to heights from which it is impossible to return.
You’ve had a pretty rough childhood and it’s no wonder you’ve tried to escape. I’m in admiration for the strength of character you’ve shown in getting to university, tackling your emotional residue and embracing a life seemingly not too much mired down in past problems. Another test of your resilience would be your ability to maintain an emotional distance while continuing to have a semblance of a relationship with your mother.
Drop her a card and leave it to her to reply. If it comes with emotional tripwires step away
Turning your back and severing contact is sometimes the only path, but it can also be the easiest. It offers a form of escape, but no resolution; it just means you don’t need to cope with behavioural problems and emotional triggers that are your mother’s legacy. It also means you’ll never really know what was at the root of her unhappiness, or come to understand what made her the person she has become. The latter is a potential key to confronting your own foibles and fairly apportioning blame. Curiosity is one reason to try to forge a new, less emotionally fraught connection and, interestingly, your baby may do the work for you.
Grandchildren often develop an entirely independent connection with grandparents, enjoying a harmony with the adults we found impossible to live with. Without responsibility for the young life in their orbit, but enhanced by the pleasure of seeing themselves reflected, love can swing both directions in a fairly unconditional way. Vicariously it can be a healing balm for raw sores.
The most important question is how robust you feel about your own mental health at the moment. Pregnant with your first child is no time to take on additional emotional challenges and if that is all a rekindled relationship with your mother has to offer I’d be inclined to make yourself the priority. Familiarity does not come with a right to continue bad patterns of behaviour down the decades. It’s possible that this period of estrangement has given your mother time to contemplate her relationship with her daughter; it’s also possible that she hasn’t given it a second thought.
I’d be tempted to drop her a simple, kind card, letting her know you are all well, that you are having a baby and that you miss her. Then leave it to her to respond, and if it comes fraught with emotional tripwires step away and consider your duty done. If, on the other hand, your olive branch elicits a reply that feels it’s carried on a conciliatory wind, tentatively step further towards her. Ultimately it’s all down to you. Parenting gives you no rights over your children. At a certain point your relationship with them will be defined not by guilt but by the good times. If that bonding base never existed, ranting and raving about duty, responsibility or devotion is just specious noise.
As in a romance, the quality of blood relationships depends on all parties. They need to be invested in and nurtured in order to flourish. You can’t torture a child for 20 years and then expect them to support you unconditionally in old age. There’s no debt due, but there’s much pleasure to be gleaned watching your child enjoy an independent relationship with their grandparent. I’d give her a chance just to see if she deserves it.
If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. Follow her on Twitter @mariellaf1
Should I tell my estranged mum I’m pregnant? | Mariella Frostrup
