The Emotional Fallout from Recognizing Maternal Abuse

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If life were more like a made-for-television movie, the moment at which our heroine realizes her mother’s mistreatment would be one of jubilation. We tend to frame important recognitions and epiphanies—the “AHA” moment—as being only positive in nature, and always freeing and uplifting. The music in the background would be Beethoven triumphant and the smile on her face radiant; as viewers, we’d cheer her on in her empowerment.

But, alas, life doesn’t follow the same script. And, as counterintuitive as it may seem, a daughter’s recognition of how her mother has hurt her—has made her feel less than or unworthy or has ignored her—may release intense and unexpected negative emotions.

Understanding the complexity of recognition

Recognition is the first step out of a toxic childhood; in my book, Daughter Detox: Recovering from an Unloving Mother and Reclaiming Your Life, I call this stage “Discovery” because while this may seem like a problem hiding in plain sight, it actually isn’t. It needs to be discovered and uncovered because to get through your childhood, you’ve developed all sorts of maladaptive coping mechanisms along with goals that may not necessarily serve you. (Such as squashing your emotions or not speaking out, all to minimize conflict or automatically resort to pleasing and placation.) All of those behaviors actually stand in the way of recognition, even after decades of life as an adult who’s been long freed from the confines of her childhood room.

One unscientific and totally anecdotal piece of information that has come through interviews and my interactions with unloved daughters over social media is that the age of recognition is often shockingly old: Many women are between 45 and 60. A small percentage of women recognize that they have been mistreated in their teens and twenties, though few take action until their mid-to-late-thirties. But, anecdotally at least, recognition seems to take place much later, which testifies to the obstacles—both conscious and unconscious—that stand in the daughter’s way.

Understanding the obstacle course

The biggest boulder is the state of what I call the core conflict—the tug of war between the daughter’s recognition of how she’s been hurt and who hurt her and her continuing need for her mother’s love, approval, and support. The latter feeds her denial and normalization of the treatment (“She doesn’t really mean to be cruel,” “She cares about me deep inside but doesn’t know how to show it,” “If I behaved differently, she’d appreciate me more”) and a steady stream of rationalizations, which include explanations for her mother’s behaviors along with self-blame (“It’s just the way she is. She can’t help it.” “My mother’s childhood was rough and it’s not fair for me to expect anything of her.” “She doesn’t know how to deal with me because I am so different from my siblings.” “If I were more to her liking, she’d like me. It’s on me.”)

Comes the tipping point

The tipping point in the core conflict can come from within or from an outside source. A daughter may simply run out of steam, unable to continue rationalizing or denying. Her mother may treat a child of hers in that old toxic familiar way, or make her kids feel bad about themselves and she may spring into action on her children’s behalf as she can’t for herself. She may find herself in a therapist’s office for some other reason and this truth suddenly bubbles up to the surface. But sometimes it takes the intervention of a third party who is tired of seeing her being abused by the person who, the culture holds, is supposed to love her unconditionally. It could be a spouse, a lover, a friend, or an adult child.

Here’s what will surprise you about what’s often framed as an AHA moment.

What you are likely to feel

This moment—when recognition and the need to save the self from continued pain actually outweigh the need for your mother’s love—is incredibly ambivalent. You would think it would make an unloved daughter feel powerful, but the daughters I canvassed and interviewed had a much more nuanced vision. While it’s true that the truth will ultimately set you free, it may not in the moment.

While I’m neither a psychologist nor a therapist, I have learned a great deal from the many women I’ve interviewed over the years in addition to my own personal experience, and among the contrarian and negative emotions a daughter may feel are these:

A sense of powerlessness

This is particularly bewildering because, after years of inner conflict, we thoroughly expect that we will feel empowered by seeing a clear path ahead. That is often not the case as one reader wrote to me, whose recognition was sparked by her therapeutic sessions:

“When it was brought home to me, I felt hopeless as well as powerless. I still remember the moment the counsellor asked me if I really accepted that my mother was toxic for me and, although I knew it was true, the feelings of bewilderment, sadness, and helplessness hit me. I’m one of those only children and she was my only living blood relative getting quite elderly so my distress was compounded by that fact. If there was ever a decision to be made about her health, finances, anything really, I was the one named on documents or called on.”

But that wasn’t the thing that made her feel powerless, as it happened. She continued:

"It was made more difficult because of the way she presented to other people: as a sweet, little old lady with curls, a lively sense of humour and delicate. In fact she was as tough as old boots when it came to getting what she wanted. However, I didn’t feel I could contradict the people who would complement me on having such an interesting and charming mother. This was part of the powerlessness: the inability to express myself to most people about the situation.”

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But feeling powerless may also be the result of not getting what you wanted—which, for most daughters, is their mothers’ love and support, some reasonable kind of facsimile, or even something that looks like a family. The recognition that she won’t ever love you, or that there is no way to fix the discord ever, may come as a huge blow. That was true for one of my readers who answered a call-out about this piece. I think you will find it as moving and revelatory as I did:

“I never felt powerless until now. Now I have to let go. I have to walk away…. There is nothing left I can do to protect my sisters from my mother’s abusive, narcissistic ways. I am powerless. I am the successful oldest daughter who can no longer protect my mother from herself and her bad decisions in her old age (she still drinks and has mild dementia…. I need to walk away, if I want to save myself and my wonderful family. I didn't feel powerless when she beat me as a child. I didn't feel powerless when I left home at 18, I didn't feel powerless when she divided my sisters and me over the years. The powerless feeling is the result of realizing there is nothing left to do but walk away.”

I think this testimony speaks for itself.

Intense anger

While anger can play a positive role in recognition when it’s directed at the mother’s mistreatment, it can also be destructive, especially if it simply becomes another form of self-criticism, which was the case for one woman who continues to struggle with managing it:

“When I think about the years I wasted trying to please her, rationalizing and denying, I just seethe. I want the years back. And while I realize that’s not possible, I am angry at being robbed in this way and, yes, having participated in it. I see that this is destructive but I honestly have trouble dealing.”

While anger can be releasing—and allow you to see the full extent of your mother’s abusive behavior—being angry with yourself for “wasting time” is counterproductive; if you are stuck in this loop and devolving into the old pattern of self-blame, please seek help pronto. This kind of anger is a road to nowhere.

Desolation and loss

While recognition is supposed to be empowering and freeing, many daughters experience deep feelings of loss; one reader explained it with exquisite precision:

“With recognition comes the death of the hope that you will ever get your mother to love you.”

Alas, that is brilliantly and counterintuitively true; some women will experience deep sadness and even panic. You may find that all the upsetting questions you’ve held at bay for years suddenly float to the top with alarming force and fill you with distress. You may feel as though you need to mourn even though your mother is very much alive; dealing with your grief productively is a good thing and mourning can be part of your recognition and recovery. The larger point is that none of this is very unusual.

Again, if you need help, please seek professional counseling. This is the road out but it can be very hard to navigate on your own.

Self-doubt and second-guessing

Many daughters find themselves backtracking from their recognition and just sliding back into the familiar tug-of-war I call the core conflict; this isn’t unusual either, even though it may feel upsetting in the moment. Keep in mind that you have long fought recognition—that is the essence of the core conflict, after all—and one of the deficits you experienced in childhood was being supported in your thoughts and feelings so that self-doubt (and self-blame) became unconscious default positions, and it’s not surprising that you’re rolling back down the hill under stress. Be kind to yourself, and get support, either from someone who loves and cares for you or from a professional. This is a big emotional moment in your life and there’s no shame in admitting you’re having trouble dealing.

It’s true that recognition of your mistreatment at your mother’s hands is the first step in traveling a long road; knowing what you can expect will help you find your way.

Copyright © 2020 by Peg Streep

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