My Mother is Yours

Oftentimes the women that raise us are the people we will soon become. For a long time this train of thought terrified me but as I have gotten older, I see my mother in a much gentler light. She makes mistakes, but I do too, so who am I to expect nothing but perfection from her? Us women are constantly comparing ourselves and this begins with our mothers. We have been passed along generational trauma from our great grandmothers to our grandmas, to our mothers and eventually, to us. So, how can you reject that trauma without rejecting your mother? I have always felt both resentful and grateful for my relationship with my mother, but as I get older the resentment seems to fade away and gratitude is all I feel. I see how complicated my mother’s relationship with her mother is and in witnessing that, I now understand how hard she has tried to not inflict the same trauma on me. I see the sacrifices my mother has made for me and it makes me respect her even more, regardless of the mistakes, pain and projections of my childhood.

After leaving for college, I have been mending my relationship with my mother and I see so many other women my age doing the same. There is a sense of empowerment that occurs when you leave your home, but with that power comes a sense of fear and discomfort, which I feel pushed me closer to my mother. I wanted to feel safe and protected again--a sensation that I had forgotten. When men hurt and traumatized me, it was my mother who made me feel better--she made me feel worthy of good things. In reclaiming my mother’s love, I have learned to love myself. I believe that my complex relationship with my mother is a reflection of my relationship with myself, which forces me to reevaluate my perception of myself and of her. As they say, you are a product of your environment and my home was built by my mother.

While reexamining my view of motherhood, I decided to ask other women about their mother and daughter relationships. I was encapsulated by the unique stories that defined these women. Some were close confidants with their mothers while others were learning to claim independence from theirs. Many of these women expressed an immense amount of care for their mother or daughter. For example, Terri Strauss disclosed how her daughter Genna “can be her own worst critic and I wanted to take the pressure off her because I was always hard on myself.” In fact, many of the mothers I spoke to expressed fears for their daughters making the same mistakes they made. They did not want their child to hurt or struggle in the same way, especially if they could prevent it. When I think of those mothers’ fears, I can begin to understand why my own mother acted the way she did, through comments or controlling behavior to prevent any future pain.

I cannot even begin to understand the trials and tribulations that come with being a mother, but I often come from a place of judgment towards mine. It is easy to see your parent, a person you grew up idolizing, as

a messy person purely because their actions did not meet your expectations. As Sage Kosmala said, “It’s okay to not think your mom is perfect,” and she is entirely correct. Mothers aren’t perfect, and they don’t have to be. When I spoke to Ilse StacklieVoght, she expressed how her own internalized misogyny made her hold her mother to a much different standard than her father. After hearing her express that, I identified that same behavior in almost all of the women in my life. Our mothers have to do everything and in doing that, there is more room for mistakes. I even see us women applying that standard to ourselves, which is a heartbreaking manifestation of generational trauma.

When hearing women describe their relationships with their mothers, I was fascinated by how similar they were to their parent. I asked every woman if they saw their mother in themselves and if so, did it ignite a sense of fear or comfort? Almost every woman expressed that as they have aged they have begun to see their mother in the way they look, act, talk, and carry themselves. In noticing those similarities, many approached it with a loving sense of comfort. They were reminded of home and their childhood. Listening to these women and their stories has made me see my own relationship with my mother differently. When I look in the mirror, I see a reflection of my mother and when I look at my mother’s face, I see a reflection of myself. She embodies me, she made me, and she is a part of me.

WRITTEN BY QUAYE MEADOW NEGRO ART DIRECTOR HALEY KOSKI PHOTOGRAPHER CHARLOTTE MOEREL MODELS LEAH MARCHELLO

& GENNA STRAUSS

DESIGNER COURTNEY SHAPIRO