For some reason, despite this being my own personal blog, I fear sharing too much of my own life. I want to avoid sounding self-centered or like I’m complaining. But in my 26 years of life, I have experienced and endured a lot. And I know that I carry wisdom and perspective that is valuable.

So here I am, talking about the relationship and troubling dynamic between my mother and I, again.

For context, I lived with my parents until the age of eight. Then the school contacted my grandparents with concerns. They noticed I was coming to school exhausted and unkempt, not to mention my frequent tantrums. Shortly after, my parents signed over guardianship, and my brother and I moved in with our grandma and grandpa.

Just a few minutes away- but into a completely different environment.

My mother, despite needing it, never asked for help or told anyone she was struggling with the responsibility of motherhood. From what I can recall, she was barely around. But when she was, a kind of hectic energy filled the house.

My father was an alcoholic immigrant from Mexico who didn’t speak much English, and his temper was stoked by my mother’s. Though his anger was never directed at me, I do remember my parent’s physically hurting each other.

And I remember my mother hurting me. Though she would never admit it.

So, what kind of relationship can thrive from this?

Mmm, very few. Not ours- and I say that with a heavy heart.

A relationship like ours cannot thrive without effort, awareness, intention, and the capacity for change. And after years of waiting and trying to force that change, I’ve had to accept something difficult.

Things are not going to look different…

I have gone through my own journey of self-awareness, accountability, and breaking patterns- while the other party refuses, or simply cannot, accept reality, responsibility, or reason.

And that realization hurts.

I feel unimportant, disappointed, and frustrated. The woman who gave me life could not support or sustain it- could not nurture it or protect it.

Now, at six months pregnant, I feel this even more deeply.

There is a kind of clarity that has come with this season. A passionate conviction that my child will experience something different.

I will bring consistency. Closeness. Emotional stability.

So, the questions becomes-

How do I move forward?

What boundaries do I set? And how do I actually uphold them?

This has been the challenge of the last five years. I’ve moved back and forth between no contact and weekly phone calls. I’ve learned the patterns- that conversations lasting more than twenty minutes often end poorly. That at some point, I’ll be speaking and she won’t really be listening.

Or I’ll be listening and feel the need to challenge… and I’m faced with a choice.

Do I stay quiet and feel dishonest?

Or do I speak truth- and have it received as an attack?

There never seems to be a clear resolution, and I refuse to play into delusion or encourage bad behavior.

I’ve even considered calling her by her first name instead of “mom.” But then I feel cruel.

I don’t want to be the one causing hurt. I’m not trying to punish her. I’m just trying to find a way to exist in this relationship without so much stress and tension.

But- I can’t avoid the tension. I can’t avoid the guilt either.

There’s a lingering feeling that somehow I’ve failed- as a daughter, as a person, as a Christian- because I can’t simply be the “bigger person.”

Forgiveness has been extended. But forgiveness does not mean I have to continue allowing myself to be hurt by unchanged behavior.

That’s where the tension lives.

I want to acknowledge where I came from without allowing it to define me or dictate how I live and love.

I’m not complaining. I’m working through.

Because while I cannot change my mother, I can redefine what motherhood looks like for my child.

And that’s exactly where my focus needs to be.

I don’t have a clear, black-and-white solution to offer. I’m not wrapping this post up with a nice bow. I’m still learning how to hold space for both grief and peace.

Because they can coexist.

And right now, they do.