Chapter 19
Taking Yourself onto Your Own Lap (a.k.a. Re-Mothering)
One morning in yoga class, I was crouched down on my tippy-toes with my heels touching. My head was bowed, chin to chest, with my upper body resting on my thighs and my fingertips lightly touching my mat.
The yoga teacher said: “Curl yourself up like a seed and take yourself onto your own lap.”
I melted a bit. I experienced a lovely sensation in my chest. And tears pricked my eyes.
Another time, I was sitting in my easy chair, talking with a mentor about something that is hard for me to talk about. I felt myself wanting to shut down.
“Ask your body what it needs,” she said.
I leaned forward and took myself onto my own lap.
I melted a bit. I experienced a lovely sensation in my chest. And tears pricked my eyes.
This is how I re-mother myself. I hold space for all of me, even (especially) the parts I might find ugly, shameful, or disgusting. Read on…
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Several years ago I attended a two-day workshop. In the months leading up to it, I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to go, and another part did not. My experience with these types of events is that I go, intending it to be fun and empowering, and then somewhere along the line, I find myself feeling insecure, small, and powerless. It tends to happen so fast that I am blindsided by it.
Then the next time I think, “Oh, I’ve got this now…it won’t happen again.” And then it happens again in a slightly different way, but it’s all based on the same story: in an effort to impress and/or get the approval of the female authority figure, I will “forget” what I really want and start wanting what I think she thinks I should want. I will show up as needing to be fixed. I will want to impress her and get her validation and approval. And I won’t be able to control it.
I was telling my husband about it when these words popped out of my mouth: “As crazy as it sounds, I don’t feel ‘safe’ in those kinds of environments because I feel like I will be forced do something against my will.”
And then bam, I had a flashback to a time, when I was five or six years old, and my mother and stepfather took me somewhere and we spent the night in a hotel. All I had was my winter nightgown, and it was hot so they gave me one of my stepfather’s T-shirts to sleep in instead.
My mother wanted to take a picture of me in his T-shirt. I didn’t want her to. I tried to hide in the bathroom and they forced their way in. Then I tried to hide under the bedcovers and they tore them off. As I ran around the room trying to hide, they took pictures of me.
They thought it was funny. I was confused.
After all these years I know what I thought and felt in that moment:
Thought: What I want doesn’t matter.
Feeling: violated and powerless.
In that moment—fifty years ago—it was true, but it hasn’t been true for a long time, even though I sometimes act as if it is (especially in certain situations where there is a female authority figure).
I rewrote my story this way: I can attend events without those previously unconscious thoughts and emotions running the show. My preferences matter. I get to choose. I have self-agency. I do not betray myself. And? If I have a moment when I find myself feeling that way again, I can take myself onto my own lap. I can ask my inner needy little girl what she needs from me and give it to her.
You can too.
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How do you begin to take yourself onto your own lap? To re-mother yourself?
You can start by mentally and emotionally detaching the woman who gave birth to you from the role of “mother.” Your mother will always be your mother, but you can separate yourself, not only from her role, but also from her stories and beliefs.
From the time you were born, and even when you were in the womb, your relationship with your mother was your teacher. It served as a blueprint for your relationship with yourself. Your mother’s beliefs were the basis for your own. You learned to treat yourself the way your mother treated herself, and the way she treated you. This is generally a completely unconscious process. You internalize what you experience.
The nature of the mother-daughter relationship is such that it seems to be etched in stone—permanent and unchangeable. Thus, it often feels like your relationship with yourself is the same.
So many of us have an “I’m not good enough” or a “Something is wrong with me” story, and, as you know, I have those stories, too. Those stories—those beliefs—have played out in my own life in myriad ways, from believing that I wasn’t worthy of being loved by a good man (and thus, at age twenty-five I ended up married to a guy from Brazil who needed a green card) to binge eating and spending more money than I had.
As a result, I spent many, many years believing that I couldn’t take care of myself. It wasn’t until I started practicing acceptance (i.e., not arguing with reality) that I realized I didn’t have to believe my mother’s stories, nor did I have to blame her for my having adopted them. I simply needed to learn and do differently. And as an adult, this is my choice.
We hear plenty about learning to “mother” ourselves and practicing self-care, and those concepts often seem foreign or confusing. I used to think it meant blaming myself and being super “strict” with myself, such that it would be unpleasant, hard, and involve suffering. This is pretty much the way I was raised, so of course I didn’t have anything with which to compare it.
Through years of trial and error, here’s what I have learned about re-mothering: It’s the ultimate in self-care. It’s not about bubble baths and pedicures (although it can include them); it’s the deliberate practice of acknowledging, honoring, and meeting your needs and preferences (as you define them), or making sure they get met in a healthy, interdependent way, not in a dysfunctional, codependent, enmeshed way. Meaning, it’s your responsibility.
And it requires no force, willpower, manipulation, or bargaining with yourself, or with your mother. Rather than blaming her, or yourself, for all the things that you think are “wrong” with you, you can start to change your internal definitions of what it means to be mothered. Then you can stop looking to an imperfect human female (your mother) for perfect parenting.
Re-mothering can include whatever you need and want it to: acceptance, nurture/care, teaching by example, belonging, confidence, resilience, independence, trust, etc.
Here are some of the ways I re-mother myself (and note that this doesn’t happen in a vacuum or in isolation—a key part of re-mothering is being open and receptive to others who can offer you the kind of mothering you desire, knowing when and how to reach out for help, and especially to whom to reach out):
Once you’ve separated the idea of “motherhood” from your human mother, you become more open to receiving mothering from a variety of sources, including yourself. Sometimes it requires a bit of “shadow” work to see the areas where you might need a bit of mothering.
Pay attention to the times when you feel pathetic, unlovable, disgusting, empty, needy, stupid, ignorant, helpless, and incapable. These feelings stem from beliefs you have about yourself…the identity you’ve created. Be honest and open to seeing connections between these feelings and your current circumstances and you will start to see what kind of maternal love can nurture your unmet needs.
Good mothering is available to you if you are willing to let go of expectations that will never be met, and be open to seeing what is offered to you in the moment. Your mother may be limited for whatever reason, but Mother Energy is not.
Re-mothering is shifting away from seeing your mother as limited and blaming her—yet also trying to rely on her—to finding that unconditionally loving Mother Energy within you. Each and every time you do this, you develop and strengthen your emotionally mature, Matriarch Mare, adult self.
This happens as you begin to see the reality of your own lovableness, goodness and value, no matter what’s happening out there—no matter what your mother is or isn’t doing. You are no longer relying on her for validation or approval.
You are better able to receive love from others because you are no longer invested in seeing yourself as “less-than” in order to be loyal to your mother, and because you are not waiting for her to show up the way you needed or wanted her to.
You are able to see your whole self with compassionate objectivity, which means you acknowledge the faults, flaws, mistakes, while also acknowledging your goodness and value. External approval may come, but you no longer need it to feel okay. Some questions to ask yourself:
If there’s one thing I want you to do most of all, it’s to approach yourself and this process with an attitude of curiosity, fascination, kindness, and compassion. All it requires is a willingness to practice and to understand that just like a little baby learning to walk, you will fall down, and you will want to get right back up and try again. After all, it’s exciting, and you desire to see where you might go.
At the same time, you may find yourself grieving and this is perfectly normal and natural. It doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong, or taking a step backwards. It’s part of the process.
You can become the mother you always wanted for yourself. And you can create a relationship with your mother from a place of acceptance, even if she is no longer here or if you choose not to communicate with her at this time.
Something to consider: Part of re-mothering is learning to retell your story in a way that supports your growth. Below are some journal prompts that will help you redefine who you are now, what you believe, and what you want to believe.
Something to journal on: