I realized this during my 20s, specifically on the day my mother left.
From outside, my family looks ordinary, stable and steady. It’s functional enough to sustain certain level of performance.
But, inside? Well, not so much. It’s getting clearer as years go by. As the members are getting older, the true colors are getting exposed.
When my mother left, I realized how strong the emotional scaffolding she endured for many years to keep the family together. At certain point, I believed she paid it with her health. If there’s an idea that I am still holding on to is how unfair it had been for her.
After she left, I was unconsciously picking the role. Like feeling responsible to continue what my mother had been doing because life must go on. We might be grieving personally, but, I took the heaviest responsibility, as a first born daughter. I became the new emotional scaffolding of the family thinking it was the only way to keep going.
Picking up without thinking, just like sleepwalking.
I saw how I exactly treated, like we treated my mother. It felt even worse since I was dealing with all men household. Maybe not openly or consciously, but the feeling of taken for granted and lack of appreciation were valid.
I slowly woke up once I had a daughter.
I knew and had quite knowledge on child development, parenting, etc. I graduated and got a master degree in Curriculum and Instruction which learned a lot about human development and psychology. In theory, I felt like a well-prepared mother.
However, in reality, it wasn’t that simple and easy. In real life situation where many things happened beyond my control, I couldn’t fight what has been programme in my subconscious mind for many years. No matter how much I try to not to repeat few things that I don’t want to do to my kids, it’s really really hard to avoid it.
My to-go response or reaction was exactly what I received growing up. I couldn’t escape what my body kept score and stored.
The first four years of marriage and motherhood, in my childhood, home were the hardest battle in adulthood.
But, if there is one thing that I realized I have since I was little : I almost always refuse to just accept anything that doesn’t work without proper fight. I want to see why it doesn’t for now and how it will or might do so later.
What happened when you keep trying to find a way, the way will show itself. Allah has been beyond kind to me and my little family. He moved us, broadened our view, and showed us a way out through a series of events that at first looked like an unfortunate one, but that was actually leading to much, much better outcomes than what I had prayed for and planned.
It’s really true that you need change of view to change your point of view. But, I see in some people, change of point view only lasts as long as the view stays. Once they go back with the old view, the POV shifts back.
Change of view to the level of change of behavior is completely hard. It against your will. The brain hates it until it becomes familiar.
As we moved places, meeting people, learning better, I felt like things were slowly improving from the inside. It’s not a sudden lightning strike. I learn little by little. From professional visit as a couple and parents, forming daily habits as family, and as a person, small changes that are quietly compounding and slowly adapting to our daily life.
It doesn’t mean we have a problem-free life. It’s the way we deal with problems that feels different now. It’s when I understand such thing is one of the most underrated forms of Rizq.
Friction arises when I have to deal with some people I grow up with. It is unavoidable to notice the difference in frequency and mindset now, creating a significant gap in how we see our problems. Growing up together as family/friends doesn’t mean you’ll always be compatible with each other over the years.
(It reminds me of this writing and its sequel).
I often read things like this in the literature, but facing it in real life is really baffling. I even conclude, at a certain level, practising syariah (things done related to worship Allah) feels easier than muamalah (things to deal with other humans).
Being a mother without my mother makes me understand her more in a most tender way although there are some wounds that still stings. But, in general, I am all for her. She bore too much more than we, her family, acknowledge. We didn’t give her enough credit when she was still here.
I have many qualities of my mother, not only self-proclaimed, but, confirmed by others. But, I am not her and will never be her. And I don’t want to be her or have to be like her.
That thinking is one of the triggers that makes me decide not to go where she was.
I slowly detach many ideas that I unconsciously adopt from her that doesn’t fit me and my situation and form my own thinking in dealing with many things in life. I I let go of values that don’t align with my own self and the family I want to raise. I keep and hold on to ones that serve as a strong foundation and be forever grateful for that.
But, I don’t want to be responsible for others lack of emotional regulation, except for my current teenager daughter. I see how cunning people can be, and I don’t want to play along. I let people misunderstand me a lot of time, because I realize people can only see from where they are and actually, there is no responsibility to explain it too.
Sometimes, maintaining distance is the right way to maintain a relationship.
I am still doing a lot of trial and error to this day. A true healing is brutal. The road is tough and rough.
This is another form of grieving that is rarely heard and I am currently taking a class on the subject.
A Penny for My Pensieve 