The days ahead... mom
I have been struggling with this since Mother’s Day.
I remember being a child and thinking, “I will never be that kind of mother.”
More than anything, I wanted to be a mom. I wanted children. I wanted a home. I wanted to do it differently.
But now, looking back, I can see that wanting to be different and knowing how to be different are not the same thing.
I was not a teen mom. I was twenty when I had my oldest child. But emotionally, I was still much younger. In some ways, I think I was still fourteen inside. I was carrying wounds I did not know how to name, and I brought those wounds into motherhood.
I tried to teach my kids strength. I tried to teach them to let things roll off their backs like water off a duck. But somewhere along the way, I wonder if the lesson that landed was different than the one I meant to teach.
Maybe instead of comfort, safety, and softness, what landed was: look okay before you feel okay.
And that breaks my heart.
I did not want to become my mother. But pain has a way of repeating itself when no one teaches you how to interrupt it.
Now I see pieces of myself in my daughter, and I see pieces of the old pattern reaching toward my two-year-old granddaughter. That is where it has to stop.
This is not about blaming mothers forever. It is about telling the truth.
Sometimes wounded women raise wounded daughters, and those daughters grow up carrying anger, fear, shame, and confusion they did not ask for.
Some of us loved our children deeply while still raising them from wounds we did not understand yet.
I cannot go back and become the mother I wish I had been. I cannot undo every mistake. I cannot erase the hidden damage that settled into the room while I was just trying to survive.
But I can see the pattern now.
And once you see the pattern, you have a responsibility to stop pretending it is not there.
I want my daughter to heal.
I want my granddaughter to grow up with more safety, more softness, and more truth than we had.
I want the cycle to stop with me.
If you are a mother looking at your adult child and realizing the past is still alive in the room, you are not alone.
If you are a daughter carrying pain you cannot fully explain, you are not alone either.
And if you are a grandmother watching the pattern repeat and praying it does not reach the next child, you are not alone.
Seeing it hurts. Taking responsibility hurts. But not seeing it costs another generation.
I see it now.
And it needs to stop.
#motherhood #momsupportingmoms #mothersmentalhealth #Lemon8Diary
Growing up in a household affected by alcoholism leaves deep emotional scars that can unknowingly shape how we parent and relate to our children. I remember, like the author, carrying wounds from my childhood that influenced my role as a mother. It wasn’t until much later that I realized the hidden damage that 'settled into the room' during my own upbringing was still alive in my parenting approach. One important insight I’ve gathered is that wanting to be different from our parents is not always enough. Emotional wounds from childhood can linger, and without guidance or healing, they may manifest in subtle ways—even when we deeply love our children and wish to protect them. For example, teaching kids to be strong and resilient is important, but sometimes the message received is "put on a brave face" instead of feeling safe enough to express vulnerability and pain. Recognizing this pattern is painful but necessary. It’s not about blaming mothers or caregivers who were themselves wounded—it’s about telling the truth and consciously working to interrupt the cycle. In my experience, therapy, open conversations within the family, and fostering an environment where emotions can be safely expressed have been crucial steps toward healing. The desire for "comfort, safety, and softness" in raising the next generation resonates deeply. Creating that space requires patience, self-awareness, and the willingness to face painful memories head-on. It’s also important to remember that healing is a journey—for mothers, daughters, and granddaughters alike. If you find yourself carrying unexplained pain or witnessing patterns of emotional struggle within your family, know that you are not alone. Breaking the cycle is possible. It starts with seeing the pattern clearly, taking responsibility without guilt, and cultivating a compassionate environment where healing can flourish. This kind of transformation nourishes not only our children but also the generations to come.