For the few—you are not alone.
I suffer huge money and success blocks, stemming from trauma not only in my childhood but in my adult life, too. I was raised by a woman who had narcissistic tendencies, due mainly to her own upbringing and trauma.
We don’t even realise how our childhood affects us until we reflect on it. As a child, I remember loneliness; being unable to connect with my mother on any level.
As a result, I didn’t know what love actually felt like, and I fell from one narcissistic relationship to another. This compounded my feeling of utter confusion around my confidence, my worth, and even my sanity.
I struggled with the “mother myth” every Mother’s Day, both whilst I was in contact and every year since I cut her out of my life. A day when there is an outpouring of love and appreciation.
A day when I sit in cold silence, guilt, confusion, hurt, doubt, fear, and loneliness.
Having a mother who didn’t know how to love her daughter is hard to comprehend for most people (thankfully). I always felt wrong and confused and out of my mind.
One reason I thought I never wanted children was the fear that I would be like her. Even now that my beautiful baby boy is an adult. And every year, looking in the mirror, I see her in my face.
And yet, on Mother’s Day there’s a silence, a deadness in my heart. My secret. My pain. My torment.
My mother is still alive—shouldn’t I be thankful?
I feel like the cause of everything that is wrong in my family. Me. Even though I know it isn’t true, I hear her in the fragile shells of the precarious relationships I have in my family.
I used to long—I still long—for a mother who cares, who loves me.
The guilt of pushing your mother out of your life never goes away, nor does the doubt: Maybe, it was me all along; maybe, I am the problem. Maybe, all the things she did is normal. Maybe, I made it up.
No one can believe mothers like that exist.
I’m just “being dramatic.” But, I am blocked because of this. I work on my worth every day and hit this glass ceiling over and over: guilt, anger, hurt, confusion.
Every now and then, I’m reminded it’s not in my head, it’s very real. And that cold emptiness creeps in again. I want so much to be wrong. I want so much to have a mum like all those other mums.
And still I am blocked.
Still, I’m not good enough.
Still, I don’t deserve more.
Why would anyone want to listen to me?
Working on money and success blocks is emotional work. But it’s always worth it. This is the start of me healing my inner child. The start of me smashing through this block, this ceiling, and going to the next level. I’m not alone, even though the “good mother myth” can make it seem like that.
Today has been mostly tears; tears of healing and release. And there’s a lot more to come, I’m sure.
But this block has to go if I want to help people.
This isn’t all doom and gloom; I’m sad but strong, and emerging more every day.
Though we are (thankfully) few, there are others who had a mother who didn’t know how to love them. To them, I say:
>> You are not alone.
>> You are worthy.
>> You are deserving.
>> You can do this.