“I see that change is really hard,
but not changing is harder.”
A daughter who does the demanding work of confronting her emotions comes to know on a deep, almost cellular level that she was not responsible for the pain of her childhood. And as that knowledge replaces the guilt, shame, and self-blame that have controlled her, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to continue accepting her mother’s unloving behavior, and her own self-defeating responses to it.
At this point, though, most of my clients have no idea what to do or how to carry the profound changes in their inner worlds into their everyday lives. Daughters of unloving mothers had terrible role models who never taught them their responsibilities to themselves or their rights as independent women. They got few or no lessons in how to stand up for themselves, handle conflict and stress in a healthy way, or set protective limits on other people’s behavior.
But a daughter needs all those skills to break the patterns of a lifetime, and she needs new tools for becoming the woman she was meant to be.
In this chapter I’d like to show you the blueprint for a new way of being, and teach you a set of behavioral strategies and communication skills that have given my clients the resources to begin shifting their relationships with their mothers, even as they were processing the intense inner work you’ve seen in the previous two chapters.
Every one of us needs to master the art of using self-protective, assertive behavior. It’s the most effective defense against mistreatment, and I feel comfortable telling you that you can practice it on your own, regardless of whether you’re in therapy or how much meaningful emotional work you’ve done on yourself. This chapter is behavioral, strategic, and technique oriented. We think of behavior as the end of the growth process that involves changing feelings and beliefs, but I think you’ll be surprised to see how these new behaviors will dramatically shift your feeling state and any residual negative beliefs. The tools you’ll find here can help you make major changes in your life.
An Adult Daughter’s Responsibilities and Rights
Once you disconnect from the belief that you are responsible for your mother’s happiness and well-being, a void often seems to open up—the emptiness of the unknown. You’ve probably been shaping your life in response to your mother’s influence since you were little, and even if you have minimal contact with your mother now, the habit of putting her desires first (or reacting against them) may still crowd out your normal instincts for self-care and direction. Now, as you think about setting your own agenda, you may be slightly overwhelmed about how to begin.
You can start with a set of new beliefs that have the power to supersede “I am responsible for my mother”—and act as a compass that will always lead you back to choices that are both self-nurturing and respectful of others. These are your real responsibilities, responsibilities I believe you’re more than ready to accept.
As an adult daughter you are responsible for:
• Claiming your own self-worth.
• Having the life you want.
• Acknowledging and changing your own behavior when it is critical or hurtful.
• Finding your own adult power.
• Changing the behavior that’s a replica of your mother’s unloving programming.
You are in charge of these behaviors and accountable for them. At first, you may not know fully what it means to honor these responsibilities, or how you’ll do it. That’s okay. This is behavior you’re aiming toward, a new destination on the map. You’re now leaving the world your mother dominated, the one in which “having the life I want” and “having my own thoughts, feelings, and behaviors” were often treated like punishable offenses. You’ll need to make some inner and outer shifts to adjust to the significant change you’ve set in motion. Reflecting on these responsibilities, letting them seep in, is an important first step, so take time to do that.
As you accept your real responsibilities to yourself, you’re also ready to acknowledge your rights, a set of basic entitlements that are yours to claim as a strong woman and daughter. I created the list below on a recent Independence Day. In thinking about the holiday and the inspiring example of breaking away from tyranny that it celebrates, it occurred to me that many women, faced with the coercive and even tyrannical behavior of unloving mothers, have gone through life not knowing they had the right to protect themselves and seize their own freedom. For them—for you—I drafted this Bill of Rights. If you internalize and observe it, you will have withdrawn the permission for anyone to treat you badly.
The Adult Daughter’s Bill of Rights:
1. You have the right to be treated with respect.
2. You have the right to not take responsibility for anyone else’s problems or bad behavior.
3. You have the right to get angry.
4. You have the right to say no.
5. You have the right to make mistakes.
6. You have the right to have your own feelings, opinions, and convictions.
7. You have the right to change your mind or to decide on a different course of action.
8. You have the right to negotiate for change.
9. You have the right to ask for emotional support or help.
10. You have the right to protest unfair treatment or criticism.
As an adult, you have always had these rights, but after years of programming, you may not have allowed yourself to act on them. As a child, you may well have been guided in exactly the opposite direction, punished for being less than perfect. And today, you may love the idea of these rights but be uncomfortable, even anxious, as you imagine insisting on them. Your mother has probably been in the driver’s seat for so long that even as an adult you may often feel like a little girl whose feet don’t reach the pedals and who can’t see over the dashboard.
You’re stronger, more courageous, and much more powerful than you think. And you’ll demonstrate that to yourself again and again as you learn and practice the first of several essential life skills: nondefensive communication. This skill can help you make major changes in the way you communicate and deal with conflict. And, perhaps for the first time, you can begin exercising your rights and following through on your responsibilities to yourself.
Using Nondefensive Communication
It’s likely that your mother is still pressuring you to let her have her way by cajoling, criticizing, threatening, crying, sighing, trying to make you feel guilty/inferior, or bulldozing past disagreements with “Don’t talk back to your mother!” or threats of repercussions. Your exchanges probably fall into a predictable pattern. She goes on the offensive, sometimes very quietly, and you are forced to play defense.
The “I attack / you defend” pattern works extremely well for your mother, because it cements her one-up position with you. You’ve almost certainly become an expert at explaining yourself, denying that you’ve done anything wrong, rationalizing, giving excuses, giving reasons, and apologizing. But you probably don’t realize that every time you reach for those familiar responses, even though you think you’re defending yourself, you’ve actually been forced onto the defensive—and there’s a huge difference between the two. To defend is to protect from harm. But defensiveness signals weakness, and an eagerness to avoid challenge or criticism. It never positions you as an equal.
Here are some well-used phrases from the defensiveness playbook:
• I am not.
• No I didn’t.
• How can you say that about me?
• Why do you always . . . ?
• Why can’t you be reasonable for a change?
• That’s crazy.
• I never said/did that.
• I only did it because . . .
• I didn’t mean to.
• I was just trying to . . .
• But you promised . . .
Anxiety, worry, fear, and generous amounts of vulnerability are embedded in every defensive word you say.
Defensive language is your enemy. Each time you’re defensive, you create an opening for your mother, and signal your willingness to be drawn into an endless loop of accusation and defense that resolves nothing. Automatically you’ve backed yourself into a corner and invited her to bring on the pressure. On the defensive, you look and feel weak—and you are.
But you can break this cycle, and you can do it so easily it may feel like magic—by changing the words you use.
Sharon: Standing Up to Abusive Criticism
Sharon, an MBA who was working as a doctor’s receptionist, was seeing me for panic attacks that had flared up after some recent conflicts with her highly critical, narcissistic mother. (You can see our earlier sessions in the chapter on narcissistic mothers.) Writing her letter had helped her begin to see herself in a more positive light, but she hadn’t been able to calm her volatile exchanges with her mother.
SHARON: “It happened again, Susan. It was Aunt Mona’s birthday, so I went to lunch with her and my mother. I love Mona, and we were catching up, since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. She asked what I was doing now, and before I could say a word, my mother jumps in. ‘It’s a tragedy,’ she says. ‘She’s working in a doctor’s office. As a receptionist.’ She said it like I was a garbage collector or something. Then she said, ‘All that education down the drain.’ And with a kind of tragic little laugh she says, ‘She’s my little failure.’ ”
I asked Sharon how she’d responded.
SHARON: “You would’ve been so proud of me, Susan. I stood up for myself. ‘I am not a failure,’ I told her. ‘I’m proud of myself! I like my job, the people are great, and it makes me happy. Why can’t you be happy about that? I didn’t want a high-stress job. Why do you always need to humiliate me?’ That shut her up for a moment, but of course she had to have the last word. ‘It’s all right, dear,’ she said. ‘I know you’re sensitive about that. But you need to straighten up. You’re not always going to have me around as a safety net.’ As if she ever had been. I was fuming. Fortunately, Mona changed the subject and Mom let things drop.”
I asked her how she felt about the exchange.
SHARON: “Not so great, to be honest. . . . I did stand up for myself, and I thought I would feel great afterward. I know I did in the moment. But when it was all over, I still felt like hell. And I can’t quite figure out what went wrong.”
I explained to Sharon that her mother’s dismissive and insulting comments (“She’s my little failure”) had pounced on a painful old theme—You’re not good enough. And almost immediately, the familiar loop of insults began to play in Sharon’s head again. Her first impulse was to protect herself and defend against further hurt.
“The problem is,” I told her, “the strategies you used to protect yourself made things worse, not better. It seems like the natural thing to do, but every time you try to justify what you’ve done, or ask ‘why’ questions, like ‘Why do you need to humiliate me?’ you’re actually giving your mother ammunition. You’re almost certain to wind up feeling small, humiliated, and less-than, even if you yelled back.”
I explained that as long as she was defensive, her mother was in control of the conversation and the agenda. Sharon’s defensive responses were inviting more critical comments, more jabs. And as she felt more attacked and frustrated, it was easy to revert to behavior that was pretty ineffective. “I know you don’t have kids of your own, but I’m sure you’ve seen kids fighting,” I told her. “One says ‘You cheated!’ The other says ‘I did not!’ And the fight goes back and forth like a Ping-Pong game: ‘Did not!’ ‘Did too!’ ‘Did not!’ ‘Did too!’ When you’re essentially doing the same thing with your mother, it’s easy to come away feeling like a five-year-old.”
I suggested we do some role-playing, a treatment technique I have used for many years. Role-playing is an extremely effective way to model new behavior and cut to the heart of an issue.
SUSAN: “You be your mother and I’ll be you, and I’ll show you some far better responses than the ones you’ve been using. It’s easy to learn them, and they stop the critical person in her tracks, at least temporarily, and give you time to regroup. To start, pick one of your mother’s pet criticisms of you. I want you to sound as much like her as you can.”
SHARON (as mother): “I just don’t understand how you can throw away your MBA so you can answer phones and file things. But you’ve never listened to me. If you had, you wouldn’t be such a disappointment.”
SUSAN (as Sharon): “I’m sure you see it that way.”
SHARON (after a long pause): “Really? That’s it? Susan, I don’t know what to say to that.”
SUSAN: “Exactly. Neither will your mother. When you take the defensiveness away, there’s not a lot for her to hold on to. Let’s try it again.”
SHARON (as mother): “I hate to say it, but you’ve really let us down. I guess you’ll always be my little failure.”
SUSAN (as Sharon): “I don’t accept your definition of me.”
SHARON: “That’s all I say? It’s so . . . abrupt. Shouldn’t I say more?”
SUSAN: “No, that’s all. A simple statement will do. Don’t add, don’t embellish, and don’t think you need to carry on the conversation. It will probably feel awkward to do this at first, but it will get more comfortable the more you practice.”
I gave Sharon the following list of nondefensive responses and asked her to memorize them and to practice using them with a friend. As you try this, think about your mother’s most common criticisms and the words she uses to pressure you, then select the responses that fit the situation. Practice them on your own until they feel comfortable and automatic. It will take thought and effort to use them at first with your mother because they replace the autopilot responses that most people rely on. But I promise you, the results will be worth it.
Nondefensive phrases:
• Really?
• I see.
• I understand.
• That’s interesting.
• That’s your choice.
• I’m sure you see it that way.
• You’re entitled to your opinion.
• I’m sorry you’re upset.
• Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer.
• Yelling and threatening aren’t going to solve anything.
• This subject is off-limits.
• I don’t choose to have this conversation.
• Guilt peddling and playing the pity card are not going to work anymore.
• I know you’re upset.
• This is nonnegotiable.
Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, these phrases will act like a referee coming in to stop a fight. They nip conflict in the bud. You won’t need them when someone is pleasant, but they’re essential when you’re being blamed, bullied, attacked, or criticized.
I told Sharon that I was willing to bet that once she began using this new language, her panic attacks would significantly lessen. She wouldn’t be so emotionally naked and vulnerable anymore. Now she’d have weapons. And as she pointed out when she reported back at our next session, she had a shield.
SHARON: “Mom was just flummoxed when I didn’t take her bait and start defending myself. I felt pretty silly practicing my lines beforehand, but it was great to have them in mind when I needed them. With this script, I feel like I have a moat around me and she can’t get to me the way she used to. I think it’s really going to help. It already has.”
YOUR FEELINGS WILL CATCH UP WITH YOUR NEW BEHAVIOR
You may be nervous about what your mother will do when you begin using nondefensive communication. But don’t let anxiety stand in the way of putting this new behavior into practice. It doesn’t matter if your stomach is in a knot or your neck is tight the first time you try it. It doesn’t matter what’s going on inside you. Change your behavior and the feelings will catch up.
The pain, humiliation, and frustration you felt when your mother had the upper hand will dramatically ease, and you’ll feel your pride and power expanding. But you’ve got to take the first step. The new learning can’t just stay in your head—you have to take action. Until now, your mother has had the power. You can change all that. Make a commitment to yourself that you won’t let fear or anxiety control you, and if you slip, it’s okay. You’ll get it right the next time, and little by little, nondefensiveness will become more automatic.
Lauren: Pulling Off the Tentacles of Enmeshment, One by One
Lauren, a stockbroker with an overly enmeshed mother who insisted on daily check-ins and an all-access pass to her daughter’s schedule, was certain that her mother would “have a cow” if she tried to regain some power in the relationship. And she was nervous about trying. (You can see our earlier sessions in the chapter on overly enmeshed mothers.)
LAUREN: “What I really want to do is stick to my guns and just not call her when I don’t feel like it. But I know exactly what will happen. She’ll call and read me the riot act, and pretty soon she’ll be talking about how she was sitting in the dark waiting for me to call. . . . And I’ll cave.”
As I did with Sharon, I suggested to Lauren that we do some role-playing. I’d play her mother and let her play herself so we could see her usual responses.
SUSAN (as mother): “I know you asked me not to bother you at work, but I’ve been so worried about you since you didn’t call last night. I was sitting here, wondering if you were okay, wondering if something terrible had happened to you. I tried to watch TV last night, but all I could do was think of you in a car wreck. How could you make me worry like that? What’s happened to you? Have I done something to upset you? You’ve hurt me and worried me. I didn’t get a bit of sleep last night. Don’t you care about me?”
LAUREN: “God, Susan, you’ve been tapping my phone. . . . Okay, here goes. . . . Mom, of course I care about you. I’ve been calling every night for years. I just missed one night. I don’t think that’s a federal offense. Look at all the places I take you and all the time I spend with you. I’ve been a very devoted daughter.”
susan (as mother): “That’s not what it feels like to me. Not after last night. You don’t know how much I worry. . . .”
LAUREN: “I feel like a total wuss, Susan. I know we’re just pretending, but I feel guilty as hell. How am I possibly going to tell her I’m not going to call after all that?”
I told Lauren that many times, healthy new behavior has to precede emotional change. When you start to say “No, I’m not going to do what you ask just because you insist,” you will probably feel wobbly and guilty. But the more you do it, the easier it becomes, and the more the anxiety will dissipate. We all have to behave in healthy ways and trust that the healthy feelings will catch up. They always do.
Lauren’s face lit up as we practiced nondefensive responses to her mother’s pressure. She especially liked “I’m sorry you’re upset” as we worked with it because it sounded kind, but it made her feel powerful.
SUSAN (as mother): “You had me so worried when you didn’t call last night. I didn’t sleep a minute. How could you be so thoughtless?”
LAUREN: “I’m sorry you’re upset. I certainly didn’t intend to worry you.”
SUSAN (as mother): “You know how much it eases my mind to have our little phone check-ins. Is that too much to ask?” (I raised my voice and acted as if I were crying.) “Don’t you care about me anymore?”
LAUREN: “Of course I do. What a ridiculous question. . . . Whoops. I fell into the trap. Can we try it again?”
SUSAN: “Sure.”
SUSAN (as mother): “Don’t you care about me anymore?”
LAUREN: “Oh God. I can’t think of what to say.”
SUSAN: “How about something like, ‘Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer.’ ”
SUSAN (as mother): “I can’t ever talk to you. I’m going upstairs to rest.”
LAUREN: “Can I really do that, Susan? Don’t I sound like a snotty bitch?”
At first, when you begin to use your nondefensive phrases, you may think you’re doing something outrageous or wrong. You’re not used to letting leading questions and statements dangle in front of you without reacting. And you’re certainly not used to letting your mother’s upset go by marked only by a neutral phrase.
There’s no way of predicting how your mother will react to your new behavior; she’s not used to being challenged effectively. A narcissistic mother might well respond to your nondefensiveness with anger if you tap her narcissistic rage. If she’s enmeshed, like Lauren’s mother, she may pull out the pity weapon. I can’t cover every conceivable reaction your mother will give you. All I can say is this: Stay nondefensive. The list of nondefensive responses above will serve you well no matter what she does. If you need to cut short a conversation because she has become enraged or verbally abusive, just say, “Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer. I need to go now.”
This kind of communication will seem like a new pair of shoes that pinches and feels as if it doesn’t belong to you. But comfort will come with practice. The anticipation is always worse than the doing, and you’ll find that the relief and pride in holding your ground effectively is much stronger than your fears.
Don’t worry if you slip into old defensive patterns. It will happen—no one gets this right all the time—but you’ll have many occasions to try again. Keep weaving nondefensiveness into your relationship with your mother. The more you do this, the more comfortable you’ll get.
It’s impossible to overstate the importance of learning these skills and making them part of your everyday behavior. If you can do it with your mother, you can do it with anyone.