How could I hate her? When she was my inspiration.

The person who inspired me to be the woman I have become today is someone who I disliked and maybe even hated for most of my life. My mother.

I was born into an Indian family of three older brothers. My father was the type whereby if anyone didn’t do as he said he would disown them. This made my mother weak and cowardly because she was taught that divorce was not an option, she had to stay to make it work. So, she stayed, and she endured and of course it made her lose herself completely. My father disowned three of us, including me because I didn’t want to become a doctor. The day it happened, before it happened, I asked my mother to tell my father that I decided to do another subject which was unrelated to medicinal qualifications. She told me no and afterwards when he did in fact disown me, the pain and blame started towards her because I truly believed that she didn’t love me enough to stand up for me. I was 15 at the time.

This pain manifested into everything that she did for me. She always said the wrong thing, she was never able to comfort me in the way I needed or rather wanted. My communication with her became less and less. I started to define myself whereby I didn’t want to be anything like her.

I promised myself I wasn’t going to get married like she was. I promised myself I didn’t want children because if my mother didn’t love me then how can I love them. She wasn’t educated so I made sure I did well in school. Over the years I firmly believed that if my parents didn’t love me then no one else can, so I allowed myself to stay in crappy relationships. I endured years unhappiness with each one my boyfriends and because I eventually left, I knew I did better than my mother. Because I never let any one of them hit me or belittle me, I again was proud that I wasn’t like her. She depended on my father because she was a stay-at-home-mom, I did everything in my power to gain my independence and I moved out at 18 never to go back. Every fear she had, from the simple to the large, I worked my way to ensure I overcame them all.

I was ashamed of who she was, her weakness, her vulnerability. I couldn’t bring myself to introduce her to my boyfriends or even my friends. I would speak poorly of her all the time because well as a mother how could she not love me or even understand me. The negativity I held for her was so strong where a hug from her was the most uncomfortable thing ever. I never shared my life with her, I shut her out completely only doing the bare minimum. If I ever did something dishonest, I would justify it on my bad childhood. Every time I did reach out telling myself she is my mother and I should - I found faults in what she said, what she wore, what she did and would retreat back to my negative safety zone.

When I was 30 years old, I found myself in another dead end job and I started to get myself sick with frustration, my period started to come twice a month. Waking up was a chore and everything inside me was crying out for me to WAKE UP. And I did, for two years I did the self work and here’s what I learnt about the woman who inspired me to be me without even realizing it was her.

My mother is the strongest woman I know, for her to live with and put up with my father for so long she had to have so much inner strength. It may have taken a while long to get the divorce, but she did, she found that courage and against all family odds, she did it. She left and the amount of bravery it required to do so, there is no comparison in the world to what I thought I had accomplished.

My mother gave me the best life that she knew how, it may not have been the things I thought I wanted but it was always what I needed. The things I needed to growth and excel in my career. The things I needed to stand up for myself. I took her one moment of not standing up for me as weakness, when in fact it was strength. Even if she knew it or not, she gave me the strength to live, to fight, to grow, to be here today, to be me. I blamed her all my life for something that my father did, he disowned me, not her. She took care of me from the age of 15 to 18 completely and not one day I saw this or was even grateful.

Today, my mother, may not be my best friend, but I no longer have any qualms spending time with her. Last month for the first time in my life, I shared a genuine laugh with her. I have no idea how far our relationship will reach, but today I can proudly say that I love mother and I words can’t express how thankful I am to her for doing the best she could.

In the beginning of my positive journey, after realizing how awesome she was, I felt the guilt cut through me like a heated sword, I was cruel and mean and took her granted for so many years. It took me a while to find a way to forgive myself and let go of the bad memories that were built up to my liking. But I did it, and as hard as it is to write this for the world to see, I had too because I am tired of feeling ashamed of myself when just like my mother, I was also doing the best I could. It took me a few years but today I truly believe that if any of us could have done better then we would have, and now its time to stand up, brush off the past and re-access.

My mother taught me how to survive my cruel world and she got me to a point where I could now turn my survival instincts into strengths to thrive. How could I have ever thought she didn’t love me, or that I didn’t love her?