Who Says You Can't Cut Your Mother Off?

In order to tell you what I’m doing and how it’s going, I have to tell you where I've been.

For me, 2020 wasn't bad for some of the typical reasons. I didn't lose my job then subsequently lose my place to live. I actually found a new place to live (but more on that later). I didn't have anyone close to me die from Cornavirus. But I did lose someone...my mother (at least for now).

This year I have so much to look forward to, for I am really getting a clean slate, a new canvas to paint my future the way I want it. See, I recently moved to my own place, the reasoning behind it was just another terrible curve-ball that 2020 threw at me. But I refused to strike out last year. I lived in a verbally abusive household for over 10 years and the stay-at-home order that arose because of COVID, magnified everything like an electron microscope. I began working from home, unable to escape the madness and the storm that is my mother. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all terrible. We had some fun times, laughs and good memories. But when the lock-down started and she was not able to work, things went from horrid to unbearable for me.

The intentionally inflicted harm began to grow exponentially as quarantine went on. I think what hurt me the most was when you told me “You always run from your problems because you're weak. If you run when you’re married, your husband will leave you and I will help him take the kids from you.” Look here sweetheart, keep going down the path that you’re on and you won’t even know my kids, let alone have access to my husband so you can conspire with him. I think it hurt so much because it took me so long to even get to the point where I even saw marriage as an option. After a number of failed attempts at dating I gave up. That subject in and of itself brings about triggers. it also hurt because I LOVE kids (I was basically a full-time nanny at one point in my life). So the thought of having my own babies stripped away from me made me crazy with rage.

There were a couple of threats for physical harm, thankfully it never got that far. But abuse is abuse and it is never justifiable. Though she used words not physical force, there were physical ramifications. My stomach was once plagued with an ulcer but has since healed, only to have gastritis take its place. Stress only exacerbates the symptoms and living in the household that I was in, stress was inescapable. How could I get well when the very place I called home...the place I spent most of my time, was the reason why I was stressed? If you can imagine, the crippling weight that I was holding forced my hand to make a very difficult decision. But when it came down to it, I had to leave in order to save my life. It took me over two years of being back home in the chaos, but I made the conscious choice to start anew, to begin again, to live my truth.

I made a list of features I wanted in an apartment, then the hunt began. With this list of living necessities came a list of emotional and mental health prerequisites. Along with the hurt and pain, I had to leave my family behind. I soon came to understand that that house was stunting my growth. Someone was always home so I felt safe, I felt comfortable (to a certain extent). We all enjoy being comfortable, but comfort and growth operate with two different root systems. And uprooting myself was about to change my life for the better, it was my time to grow.

I made it up in my mind that moving was going to be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I kept looking for a roommate but my efforts kept getting shot down as if it were duck hunting season. My very life was dependent upon my leaving, I had to go ASAP! I set my budget and edited my list of priorities and it was as follows:

1. Monthly rent and utilities- $1,300 max
2. Square footage- 700+
3. Walk-in closet
4. Adequate parking space
5. On-site laundry
6. No glass sliding doors (if you know true-crime you know what I mean)
7. At least 10 miles away from my mother’s house

I looked everywhere within reason; Portland, Gresham, Vancouver, Beaverton. I found three places that stole my heart...places that I could see myself staying in for at least five years. In the end I wound up taking the place with not only one walk-in closest but two. It has 901 sq ft and so much parking. No sliding glass doors. I do not have laundry in the unit but there are so many laundry rooms on-site. It is below my max budget and it is about 15 miles away from my mother. On the plus side, it is literally right across the street from the hospital (it’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it). What more could I ask for?

Well...because I was moving out closer to the mountains, I needed a car that would reliably get me to and from wherever I needed and/or desired to go. Yes, I got a new car too! I did my research and found a car that lived up to my standards. And on September 11, 2020 I ended up with a 2017 Ford Escape. The specifications and ratings had me (and let’s be real, it was in my budget). I named him Sirius after the brightest star in our night sky, because in the midst of my darkness he gave me hope for a brighter future. As soon as I saw him I said "That's the one," I hadn’t even touched him yet. I manifested his existence in my life. That was it, I was ready for my move.

About four days before move-in day, I got into a big blowout with my mom. She was yelling at me because she asked if she could have the spare key to my place and I said no. I wrote her a letter and she was not happy with me detailing everything that she was putting me through. After the fight ended she left. She. Was. Livid! Her green eyes were lit up like Emerald City. I knew that that wasn’t good. So I grabbed my backpack, my work cell and a random box labeled clothes and left. I stayed with my aunt and uncle until it was time to move into my new home. I am so grateful for them, they even helped me move.

My time in my new place started out rocky but I got all of the problems resolved. Most of the fixing and deep cleaning I did on my own. I mean seriously, how did this place not get thoroughly cleaned in the middle of a global pandemic? The disrespect! They should have been ashamed of themselves! I got over the mess quickly and started making additions to give the place my own personal touch. Then I started to focus on why I moved in the first place. I did not have to be yelled at anymore, I was safe, I had peace and it is my mission to keep it.

I decided some healing would take place right away. I looked for books, courses, advice...anything that would help me move past the hurt that was so evidently present in my life. I mean I cried everyday for about two weeks straight. My neighbors probably thought I was crazy. I had the same song on repeat and bawled my eyes out. But somehow, I got a lot of work done through my tear-filled eyes. Looking back, I probably should have taken a couple of days off. Meh, c’est la vie.

Up until Christmas Eve I kept in contact with my mother. BIG MIS-TAKE! Nothing had changed with her, at least not that I could tell. I asked myself how I planned on letting the pain go if I kept letting the person who caused it in whenever they wanted. I had to stop talking to her. I HAD TO!

Many people had their opinion on that matter but none of them mattered to me. Some people keep telling me “You can’t just stop talking to her, that is your mom. She is doing the best that she knows how to do. You only get one mom,” to which I scoffed. I stopped talking to those people about the situation because they would clearly never see my point of view. I get that she is my mother, but no one should be able to treat someone the way that I was treated and still have access to the person they abused. In one of the books I read; You’re Not Crazy- It’s Your Mother: Understanding and Healing for Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers, the author stated that “society needs to stop worshiping the cult that is the mother.” I couldn’t agree more. We put so much confidence and weight on mother-child relationships, that we tend to overlook all of the toxic and hurtful things mothers do and say to their children. In my case my mother almost ruined my favorite time of year with her negativity. Our conversation made me physically ill and I refused to regress back to where I once was. So I stood my ground and ended the conversation on my terms. I then made it up in my mind that my peace will not be disrupted like this again.

December is my favorite time of year not only because of the joy that Christmastime brings, but also because my birthday is on the 29th. And it was my goal not to respond to my mom when she would inevitably reach out. I mean, I turned 30...that’s kind of a major milestone. But I was so proud when I stood firm and didn’t talk to her at all. It was one of many steps I took to ensure my overall health, letting go of the toxic people.

So let me tell you how it's going. I am on book number five that is centered around healing. The topics have ranged from getting over damaged emotions to speaking to yourself so you can see yourself as someone who is worthy of love. I have started saying affirmations while doing my nightly skin-care routine in my vanity mirror. I felt so defeated when I first moved into my new apartment, even after being so excited to get away from the source of my pain. The defeatist mentality had to change and shortly after I decided to start healing, it shifted more than two tectonic plates passing over each other creating an earthquake. The books, the courses, the advice from loved ones, and the possibility of counseling gave me the hope I needed to face the pain. And although I am metaphorically digging in my wounds to retrieve the bullets and the pain is excruciating, I want to be able to stitch myself up and heal properly. I’d rather get through the pain than let it keep biting off pieces of me until it’s consumed me completely.

There are nights that I still sit up crying about my situation. About how I felt forced to leave my childhood home just so I could find safety and peace. But instead of running away from the tears I look in the mirror and tell myself how strong I am. I can finally say that allowing my hurt feelings to be released doesn't make me weak. If anything it shows that I have a high tolerance for pain, that I am powerful. I realize that this healing thing is a process, I will not release everything overnight and the pain will leave gradually.

The deeper I get into my process, the more I began to realize I wasn't even myself. I couldn’t even recognize who I was because unhappiness was clouding my view. To help push my journey along I decided to embark on a holistic detox. I have not only decided to cleanse physically; I wanted to cleanse mentally, emotionally, financially...well every aspect of my life. It has been refreshing to clean out my closet and get rid of things that still tie me to my mother’s house. Giving back the articles I borrowed from her closet that I once thought I needed. I am in the process of redefining my budget so that I can save for something that I want (maybe a vacation, maybe a house...who knows). I am staying off of social media so I focus my efforts on more constructive outlets. Plus, so much of it is toxic and I for one, don’t need any of that.

I am thankful that my healing thus far has not only been physical, it has been emotional and mental as well. I have been able to really find myself and learn to love who I am. No more overpowering voices telling me that nothing I do will ever be good enough. The thoughts screaming “you’re weak,” whenever I feel the need to cry because the things I have been through were traumatic. Feeling unwanted with the haunting words "I should have aborted you when I had the chance" still ringing in my ears. I fought to get out and find peace and I will fight forever to keep it.

We can all agree that 2020 was a mess. Although some of us can say we made it out of the wilderness with barely a scratch, it definitely was not easy. So as we kiss 2020 goodbye, we can toast to a new beginning. So many things have changed for the better already. We should try to remember that even if we stumble or fall, we have the opportunity to get back up and stabilize ourselves. Even if we don’t, it is better to try and fail than never to try at all. It takes courage to change. Instead of getting down on myself when I mess up, I tell myself that I am a boss for even trying something new. The weight of being successful all the time is too heavy and will more likely than not, lead to anxiety or depression because of the perceived requirement for perfection. I give myself a margin for error because I know I am not going to get it right on the first try.

Ultimately, I am doing a wonderful job of maintaining my fresh start and keeping the promises that I made to myself. I have created a place where I am free to be who I truly am, where peace surrounds and love abounds. I have what I longed for so feverishly. I’m not willing to let it go. Even if the tears fall freely I know that I did, and am doing what I have to to survive...what I have to to finally live. And nothing will take my new life from me.