Want to know what it feels like to be raised by an emotionally unavailable mother? Let me tell you my story.
Whenever someone asks me about my mother, I say ‘She died when I was young’. When they reply that they are so sorry, I always say ‘It doesn’t matter, she was an evil cow and I didn’t love her anyway’. Most people are shocked.
Are you? If you are – why? You didn’t know her. You didn’t know what she was like. What it was like growing up with her. And before you say ‘Well yes that’s all very well, but she was your mother’, so what? Tell me what law or unwritten rule stipulates that I have to love my mother? There is none.
You might think it is disrespectful to talk the way I do. But those among you who have experienced an emotionally unavailable mother will understand my point of view. And believe me when I tell you that I tried my very hardest to love her.
‘Emotionally unavailable mother’ to me is just a fancy psychological way of saying cold-hearted and unfeeling. But what is the difference between a mother who struggles sometimes to show her love and one that is emotionally unavailable? I can only tell you my story and it may appear cold and matter-of-fact.
But what if your mother never cuddled you or told you she loved you? Or actually even spoke to you that much? What if your mother used you as a means to earn money and her own personal housekeeper? How would you feel if she was abusive to your siblings and cold towards you? Perhaps then you might understand a little of how I feel.
So let me tell you a few stories about dear old mum. Maybe you’ll get where I’m coming from. Or perhaps you’ll think I’m being a total snowflake and I should just get over myself and stop blaming her for everything.
I remember being very little, probably around 4 or 5 and craving my mother’s touch. She never touched me ever. Not a hug, a cuddle, nothing.
But she did do one thing and that was to come into my and my sisters’ bedrooms after a night out drinking and check we were all in bed. If our bedsheets were tangled, she would straighten them out.
This was an opportunity for me to receive a touch from my mother as sometimes if my arm was hanging out of the bed, she would put it back under the sheets. Imagine being this starved of a mother’s touch that you engineer a scenario where she might come into contact with you? And at that young age?
Again, when I was young, I could write so I guess I was around the age of 5-6, I would leave little notes to my mother. The notes would say things like ‘I love you so much mum’ and ‘You are the best mum in the world’.
I would leave these love notes to my mother on her pillow on her bed so she would see them before she went to sleep. She never mentioned them. She never replied. I would excitably go to bed and look under my pillow to see what she had left for me. After a few weeks, I stopped writing them.
I passed my 12+ which meant I could go to a local grammar school. There were two choices; an all-girls one which had a very posh reputation (not me at all, we lived on a council estate) or a local mixed grammar where all my friends were going.
Mother decided I was to attend the all-girls school. Despite my protests, she told me ‘It would look better on my CV later’ when I applied for jobs. Ironically, I wasn’t allowed to carry on and study for A-Levels. I had to work at the factory job she had found for me when I was 16 to help pay the household bills.
I had a very bad time at grammar school. I didn’t know anyone. There were cliques of girls who had known one another from middle school and were quite happy to stay in their own little groups.
It got so bad that I ran away twice and went home. Each time my mother took me back to the school, no questions asked. The school did try to help but as far as mother was concerned I was to ‘get on with it’. I contemplated ending it all but got through it.
Some years later, mother and I were arguing and she had said she’d always done her best for me. I shouted back that because she’d sent me to that school I’d tried to top myself. I ran upstairs to my bedroom. She followed and for the first time in my life, she put her arm around me. It felt so odd and strange I felt physically sick and had to move away.
So that’s a little of my pity party story. There’s much more but a lot involves other people and that is their story to tell. So how am I affected and what do I do about it?
Well, I never wanted children. I don’t have a maternal bone in me. I am shown pictures of babies and I don’t get it. I don’t feel this flush of warmth or emotion. But show me a puppy or an animal in pain or distress and I am weeping like a baby. I think I feel emotionally attached to animals more because they have no voice. They can’t tell you what is wrong. I felt the same way during childhood.
I have a cold heart. I always say I have a heart of stone. Nothing touches it. I’ve formed this hard barrier around it so nothing will crack it. This is a survival technique I learned as a child. Don’t let anyone in and you won’t be hurt.
A late boyfriend of mine used to say to me ‘You are a hard nut to crack’ and I never knew what he meant but now I do. He also said that I was either clingy or hostile. This is also true. You are either everything to me or you are nothing.
As a child, I had an avoidant attachment style. I had spent a long time trying to get my mother’s attention. Having failed I shut down and become ambivalent about her. As an adult, this has transformed into a dismissive-avoidant style where I keep myself to myself. I avoid contact with others and keep emotions at arm’s length.
In fact, I am thankful she had me. It was the 60s, she was out of wedlock and she could easily have not have done so.
I remind myself that I am not my mother. I understand the weaknesses of my upbringing and that allows me to cope with life as an adult.
Then, I have a tendency to shut myself away from people and have to try hard to socialise. The saying ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ doesn’t apply to me. If there is a chance of losing love I won’t love in the first place.
I know why I have to be the centre of attention when I am in company. It is because I craved it as a child and never got it. Likewise, I like to shock people and see their reaction. This goes directly back to my mother. I would intentionally shock her when I was a teen. Just to try and get something out of her.
I think that we need to remember that emotional neglect from an unavailable mother can be as damaging as abuse and physical neglect. However, understanding how any kind of neglect has affected you is key to moving forward.
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Me. Even my best friend is kept at a distance, resembling Bashir and Garak's on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. It's a lonely existence but at least ppl can't hurt me.
My mother was kicked out of her house at the age of 9. When she discovered that her dad had another family. She told her mom and well he almost killed her. He threw a machete at her and luckily she tripped and fell so the machete just flew past her. They were a family of 9kids and very poor. So she was one mouth less to feed. She worked as a maid and then couple years she traveled to Mexico and became a prostitute. Her pimp took her virginity and that was at the age of 13. She had me at 19 and i dont know my father. Im one of her customers daughter but which customer? I dont excuse her behavior but i understand why she is or was the way she was. She didnt receive love from her mom so how was she supposed to know how to give that type of love. She also hardly touched me, hugged me or said i love you. When i got older she once touched my head and i didnt like it. I felt like she was petting a dog. So i felt grossed out. Till now ibdont like her touching me, i feel gross and i dont like it. I think because of this i don't like people touching me. My husband tells me i have trauma but i say no i dont but i know he is right. I love both my son and daughter but i find myself being emotional distant. I have resting bitch attitude and i have built that shell or wall and i regret;not being that mother my kids need. I dont abuse them and tell them all the things my mon used to say to me but i also dont tell them how much i love them as much as i do. You will see me being nicer to animals than a human. They dont have a voice we do. Ill run over human but i wont an animal. Ill feed an animal but not a human. My daughter thinks that ny favorite child is my son. I reply with i hate you both equally. That is a joke and they laugh. I tell my daughter shes my favoriw daughter and my son is my favorite son. They reply with you only have one of each. Lol. I feel if i show them too much love that i amam being fake. I dont know i just cant show love. I didnt want kids because i knew i would be a shitty mom but deep down i did want kids.
I blame my grandparents especially my grandfather. Even though he kicked her out and almost killed her she stood by his side till his death. Took care of him financially and helped with all his medical bills. She said its her obligation. I told her im glad he is dead. He is the reason you treated me and my sister like shit. I hope he is in hell.
Being called a whore, slut, puta, trash, and every hurtful word since age 6 you start to think you are trash. Being hit for not feeding your young sister her bottle in the middle of the night. Something she should of done. Being sexually abused by my stepdad. Her taking his side. I dont know how i am not dead or in a mental institution.
Sorry for the long story and sounding so bitter and angry.
Thank you for writing in. I am exactly the same. When my mother touched me I would feel physically sick as she never touched me. I feel for animals but not children. I don't have a maternal bone in me but show me a puppy and I turn into mush. Now that I am older I understand my mother may have had issues growing up. All I can do is thank her for giving me life. I'm lucky she is dead because I wouldn't want to have a relationship with her. I always say, there's no rule that says you have to love your parents, or that you get good ones. I wish you well. xx
For me personally, growing up with an emotionally unavailable mother meant that I often felt like I was not enough. No matter how hard I tried to please or earn her love, it never seemed enough. This led to feelings of low self-esteem and insecurity that followed me into adulthood. However, I have also learned that I am not alone in this experience and that there is power in acknowledging and sharing our stories of struggle.
It is important to remember that while we cannot control our parents' behavior, we can choose how we respond to it. It is possible to heal from the wounds of an emotionally unavailable mother and to cultivate healthy relationships in our lives. Seeking therapy or joining a support group can be a helpful step in this process.
Wise words Rye, thank you.
Janey
Hi Janey,
I am 55 years old and a psychotherapist in Washington state.
Recently, much unresolved grief and anger have been bubbling up for me in regard to my own experience of having a cold/absent mother.
It was a balm to read your article. I thank you for writing it, as I’m sure do countless others.
It’s like sitting with a friend who accepts and understands me; such a nice feeling.
Warmth and appreciation to you for being vulnerable and taking the risk to share.
-Laurel
Oh what lovely words Laurel, I thank you for them. Yes, it is a risk to share such vulnerable information these days but I'm happy my words made sense to you. As an aside, I wonder if you went into psychotherapy because of your childhood experiences?
Best wishes
Janey
Hello Janey,
Based on just the names of people who have left comments, it looks like there's only one other male. Certainly the majority of comments are from women (judging by the names). Had you noticed that? If I'm correct, I wonder if it's significant? Are men less likely to look for and find your article, or are men (as likely as women to read it but) less likely to acknowledge that they experienced this too? I know I experienced it, but I can't stop questioning whether I experienced it. I torture myself by questioning myself, "was it her or is it me?". I think that's what she wants me to think. But am I right or is she right: is it my flaws that lead me to blame someone else (i.e. her)?
I really don't believe I'm wrong. I know I could write a book (probably a few volumes in fact) about my experiences with her in the last 52 years. I know she'd dispute every detail. Every fact. She's 83 now. She can't remember what she had for lunch yesterday. But she's as certain as ever that her version of everything is (a) correct, (b) opposite to mine and (c) paints me in a bad light. Because she's never, ever been wrong.
From 2014 to 2020 I had no contact with her. I accepted during that period that she may have died, unbeknownst to me, and I was content with that. Then she reached out when Covid happened. I went to live with her for 1.5 years. It was tolerable. Then my recently disabled brother entered the fray. Their interaction was overbearing and unworkable. One day she blamed it all on me. And we parted company again. I reconciled with her. But cognisant of the reality of what she was.
A month ago I spent a week with her doing DIY for her. Then left one afternoon when she went back to bed, without saying goodbye. For very good reason, in my mind.
I'm now in limbo wondering whether to attempt to address the issues of the past 52 years, or whether to ignore all that and reconcile for the sake of a geriatric, lonely woman, or whether to leave her to die and rot in the exile of her own creation. She probably will die in the next one or two years.
She's made references to her will - to her "estate". To the very modest fortune that my father - not her - created. For example, "you'd better hope I don't die in my sleep because I haven't changed my will" - implying that she'd cut me out of it during our six-year-estrangement and hadn't redressed it. She talks about "who will inherit my jewellery?" as if she's the Duchess of Windsor. Truth is it's mainly one ring that she inherited from her aunt, whom she took no interest in at all for sixty years, but wooed heavily when said auntie was terminally ill.
I'm at a crossroads yet again. Do I attempt to reconcile with the withered old cow as a sympathetic gesture to someone that will doubtless be dead in a year or two? Or do I continue on the morally-correct path of cutting off all contact with a mother who physically and (especially) emotionally abused me my entire life? There are thousands of examples I remember and could quote. But the crowning example is the most special day in my life when I learned I'd earned a first class honours degree - I came home and told her and her only reaction was, "I knew you would". Well, I found that extraordinary. Because it came as a gargantuan surprise to me. No congratulations. No present. No reward. No tearful hug. Just the simple statement "I knew you would" - I guess because to her it was obvious her that any individual possessing half of her genetic make-up would graduate top of his class.
She's made me very damaged. I'm trying to find ways to rebuild.
Thanks for reading
Andrew
Hi Andrew,
Thank you for sharing your relationship with your mother. I'm not qualified to give advice, I can only tell you how I dealt with 'the old bat'.
I feel nothing towards my mother. However, I do understand the importance of the mother/daughter relationship and this is what occasionally tugs at my stone cold heart strings. I'm sad because I missed out on a nurturing relationship, because I know I should have had one. But I didn't have one because of her actions. That's not my fault, she was the adult. Yes, she could have had her issues but in the end she was a evil, abusive person.
I was lucky, she did us a favor and died young. Do I wish I could have spoken to her about her behaviour? Possibly. It would have been nice to have some answers. I suspect she wouldn't have told me though.
All I can do is understand my feelings, what my triggers are and where I want to focus my energy. The only thing I can control is how I deal with/feel about her. I can't control others.
You have to make your mind up what you want to do and why. Do you want answers, an explanation, a declaration of love? Or is the reconciliation about you and feeling you did the right thing before she dies? Perhaps it is both? Either way, You should prepare yourself. You might not get the answers you want.
I would recommend therapy. Talking is a great way of unpacking your feelings of loss, regret, sorrow and abandonment. It doesn't sound like your mother is capable of healing you, maybe you need to take steps to heal yourself.
Wishing you all the best for your journey.
Janey xx