Why I Hated My Mother…Or Did I?

During this Mother’s Day week, I have been thinking about my relationship with my own mother, who passed away only seven years ago. In my book, Sidonia’s Thread, I claim that when I was a child “my resentment of her progressed into a hatred that tortured and haunted me. It permeated every bit of my body, gnawing at me, yet I could not shed it.” But was it really “hatred?”

As the much older Hanna, I would identify the emotion as more disappointment and anger at my inability to understand her and communicate with her than it was hatred. Her secrets “created a barrier between us that I could never cross.” It was not until I discovered the reasons for her mysteriousness through my own research that I finally could come to terms with my mixed emotions and love her with all my heart. Despite maintaining the highly confidential aspects of her life to herself until her death, I learned to love her in the same spiritual and unconditional way she had always loved me. But it would have been much easier if we could have communicated with one another about the innermost secrets that we had always kept inside.

As you ponder your maternal relationships this week, I hope you will view your mother with kindness and compassion and relate to her as another human being who has the same challenges and vulnerabilities as all of us on earth. And in that spirit, begin to have a dialogue about the differences and misunderstandings that may exist between you. Treat her and yourself gently.