I was telling a friend some pieces of my motherhood story. An appropriate time as I’ve had no mobility going on three days due to my low back going out and feeling like bad back labor. Sometimes dropping me into a squat because my legs go out in the kitchen during my short time upright looking for snax. It’s getting better but it hasn’t escaped my notice that I’m feeling all this during a time when once again, collectively we are facing our shadows around taking away the power of women or those with a uterus. The creative power. The energetic magick to choose to create life or not. I transmute very literally in my body every time these waves happen.

But we were talking about how I used to go to bed every night so burdened with guilt and shame that I had somehow messed up being a mother to my four children. My story is a very complex one. Undiagnosed autism, autoimmune illness, raising 4 kids mostly alone who are also neurodivergent in some way. We dealt with drug addiction, poverty, abuse situations and partners who undermined my intuition and authority as their mother. Furthering the wound I had developed. I never planned on having children. Never crossed my mind, until it did. But when I did, it changed me completely. I never knew I could love so fully. I invested everything I had. I enjoyed it all, I enjoyed their weirdness and the beauty of them broke my heart open in the best way. And when life turned on us, I absorbed everything, blaming myself for what was actually just a lack of resources and support.

But I learned as I went. The more I learned about my own trauma, the more I was able to give them what I never had. I had a very intuitive connection to them and what they needed and that’s why it hurt so much when others would come in and question my knowledge and authority. It was a sacred calling to be their mother. I was given the task of turning the tides. It was messy and very very hard. But I know I did it. Deep in my bones, I know I did. We have to let go of what the world is telling us about connection and raising human beings. I have so much to say about all this, I’m discovering. I’ve lived it. I’m emotionally connected to it. I had to hide how I parented all those years because it was so counter culture in this world of formulaic child rearing. It’s like saying you can create art by following exactly these steps and you will have well developed, college educated humans who are ready to devote their life force to a slave labor workforce and stay out of trouble. 🤮

I was telling my friend that these days I can look back and feel so proud of what I was able to do. Despite one of my children currently out there estranged and telling people I abused them, I have three boys (2 being adults) who are always telling me I did a great job. Mothers are just mothers. We are human beings who do damage, and most of us not on purpose. I’ve always lived by the motto that changed behavior is the best apology and when I caused harm, that meant I needed to change something. I don’t go to sleep with guilt anymore. I send that worn out, unsupported, confused mother so much love and grace. She was doing a thankless job and very outnumbered. Somehow I managed to raise people who are kind and compassionate and true to themselves. My goal was to make sure my children felt safe to be who they truly are, and to live in a way that made them happy, even if that meant walking away from our connection. And I did that.

Someone once told me there are no good mothers. There are just mothers doing their best.

This Post Has One Comment

  1. juliemontinieri

    I’m sharing this with a mother I know will appreciate you Carrie. As I do.

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