Although I believe you when you say "I would not change a single thing about my childhood", your story makes me unbearably sad. It makes me want to take you in my arms and tell you that you are important and you deserve unconditional love. You do not have to sing for your supper.
Thank you Doug, for your kind words. As for your sadness, I think what you are feeling is empathy and the idea that my story, my words, could provoke such a feeling in you or any reader is deeply heartening to me because empathy is the most noble and powerful of human emotions -- it's the reason why stories matter, why we tell them and read them in turn. Empathy is the antidote evil, it is hope and it is love. If anything will save us, it will be that.
Ah, I KNEW I’d heard of you somewhere before - it was the Guardian and Where You End and I Begin is already on my shelf. But what brought me here was the free share of the Katherine Birbalsingh piece, which was so impressive, not least in its very telling choice of anecdotes, and the subtlety of your final paragraphs, which perhaps could not have been penned by someone educated entirely within the English class system.
Thank you so much Miranda -- it's kind of astonishing to me that someone like you could have already read my work/bought my book and then stumble upon me again here... it's very, very heartening to know and honestly makes me feel a lot less lonely in my writing shed on this gloomy October Sunday afternoon. I will be subscribing to your Substack in turn as I am a enormous poetry enthusiast. Thanks for your kind words and for reading.
Leah, your story is my story in almost all ways! I RAN to intense therapy the minute I found out that I was pregnant. I walked in the first words out of my mouth were “ we can talk about anything except my mother “! That was 30 years ago and I’m still trying desperately to figure it all out. When I was finally able to “talk- confront?” my mom during my 4th pregnancy, she literally walked out of our lives( me, my husband. - I made sure I married a man who could and would take care of her too and our 3 small children) and we didn’t see her for almost 4 years. In many , many ways she has been the very best and worst thing in my life. Thanks for sharing your story so beautifully- my head is spinning!
Oh Mary, I hear you, I feel you! It's fascinating how the experience of motherhood can suddenly throw our own daughterhood in to question for the first time. As parents I think we owe it to our children to try our best to be *open* to talking about whatever issues might arise later in life. The past lives inside us. We don't need to be perfect mothers but we must try to be accountable. It's hard but we need to at least try to open ourselves up to the discussion.
Leah, thank you for replying! One last thought, when my oldest daughter was about 3 years old, we were going home from nursery school and in the back seat of the taxi she looked at me and said ( I’ll never forget these words)”mommy, I’m not you and you’re not me”! I remember hearing the words but in a way she was speaking a language unfamiliar to me! It took me a moment to put it together ( like you do when you speak a second language but NOT FLUENTLY) and it dawned on me how very right she was. Out of the mouths of babes... This still makes me smile.
Although I believe you when you say "I would not change a single thing about my childhood", your story makes me unbearably sad. It makes me want to take you in my arms and tell you that you are important and you deserve unconditional love. You do not have to sing for your supper.
Thank you Doug, for your kind words. As for your sadness, I think what you are feeling is empathy and the idea that my story, my words, could provoke such a feeling in you or any reader is deeply heartening to me because empathy is the most noble and powerful of human emotions -- it's the reason why stories matter, why we tell them and read them in turn. Empathy is the antidote evil, it is hope and it is love. If anything will save us, it will be that.
Ah, I KNEW I’d heard of you somewhere before - it was the Guardian and Where You End and I Begin is already on my shelf. But what brought me here was the free share of the Katherine Birbalsingh piece, which was so impressive, not least in its very telling choice of anecdotes, and the subtlety of your final paragraphs, which perhaps could not have been penned by someone educated entirely within the English class system.
Thank you so much Miranda -- it's kind of astonishing to me that someone like you could have already read my work/bought my book and then stumble upon me again here... it's very, very heartening to know and honestly makes me feel a lot less lonely in my writing shed on this gloomy October Sunday afternoon. I will be subscribing to your Substack in turn as I am a enormous poetry enthusiast. Thanks for your kind words and for reading.
Leah, your story is my story in almost all ways! I RAN to intense therapy the minute I found out that I was pregnant. I walked in the first words out of my mouth were “ we can talk about anything except my mother “! That was 30 years ago and I’m still trying desperately to figure it all out. When I was finally able to “talk- confront?” my mom during my 4th pregnancy, she literally walked out of our lives( me, my husband. - I made sure I married a man who could and would take care of her too and our 3 small children) and we didn’t see her for almost 4 years. In many , many ways she has been the very best and worst thing in my life. Thanks for sharing your story so beautifully- my head is spinning!
Oh Mary, I hear you, I feel you! It's fascinating how the experience of motherhood can suddenly throw our own daughterhood in to question for the first time. As parents I think we owe it to our children to try our best to be *open* to talking about whatever issues might arise later in life. The past lives inside us. We don't need to be perfect mothers but we must try to be accountable. It's hard but we need to at least try to open ourselves up to the discussion.
Leah, thank you for replying! One last thought, when my oldest daughter was about 3 years old, we were going home from nursery school and in the back seat of the taxi she looked at me and said ( I’ll never forget these words)”mommy, I’m not you and you’re not me”! I remember hearing the words but in a way she was speaking a language unfamiliar to me! It took me a moment to put it together ( like you do when you speak a second language but NOT FLUENTLY) and it dawned on me how very right she was. Out of the mouths of babes... This still makes me smile.
Leah, this is so beautiful. And inspirational. Made me cry. As a mother and as a daughter.x
Thank you Eva! I hope they were *good* tears. The mother/daughter dynamic is such a conundrum -- I just finished doing a webinar thingy with the therapist and author Annette Byford who is just so brilliant on the issue if you're looking for further reading or resources. Here is her book: https://uk.bookshop.org/books/once-a-mother-always-a-mother-on-life-with-adult-children/9781911383697