A few weeks ago, I had a falling out with my mother. Up until then, I had lived my life trying to appease her emotions. I tried so hard to fit into the mold of what she wanted from me. Every time I did, I felt a bit more disconnected from her reality. As a child, I learned early on that my feelings did not matter to my mother. Nothing could ever compare to the trauma and pain that she had undergone, and so, I closed myself off in favor of her emotions.

Before that blow-up, I had never imagined my life without my mother in it. She was a huge guiding factor in my life, even when it was often clear that she and I were very different and didn’t see eye to eye on many things. Yet, I still valued her opinions, thoughts, and emotions even if it meant being at the expense of my own. As a single mom of four, her words and guidance were often the only things I drew from in my early teens and twenties. In a way, my mom anchored me with the tough love that I thought I deserved.

After she stopped speaking to me, a thought struck me for the first time. I realized as an adult that I never needed her in the same ways I did when I was a child. I spent so much time being the parentified daughter. I hoped to be saved by my mother, and was disappointed when she failed to show up yet again.

I waited for her to see me, but got in return dismissal and rejection. Things that I am currently working on healing from, but have helped me to see the toxic pattern that I had been engaging in with my mother for so long. When I read her final message to me, the scared little girl in me began to loosen. I thought that I would fall apart without my mother. That I would always drift through life feeling lost, terrified of the world around me, and always so terribly unsure of myself. I still am harboring some guilt about the whole situation, but for once in my life, I didn’t let myself shrink and give in to her. 

Since then, I have felt a shift within me. It felt like fear at first, and then it morphed into relief. Now, what I feel is liberated, as my “true self” continues emerging from the old stories and beliefs that I once forced onto myself. I was never good with conflict. But standing up to my mom by refusing to give in to her emotional immaturity opened up a whole new world that I believed I could never have access to. For once, I was the one putting up the boundary and refusing to answer her call.

When you’ve been trained to shrink yourself at the expense of other people’s emotions, you don’t have any sense of self. I always felt like a child when my mother chastised me for not being emotionally available enough for her. Or when she felt like I was pushing her out of my life, but really, I was just trying to live it. I always shrank and felt silly when I tried explaining feelings to her. She would meet them with a cold detachment, as if my hurt was bothering her. She rarely acknowledged my hurts but compared hers with mine as if they couldn’t be true at the same time.

 In every romantic relationship before my current one, I was the one who begged for people to love me right. I always knew that I didn’t have to stay, but the part of me that craved love and craved being seen by someone kept me from understanding my worth. Not speaking up kept me safe for a little while, but it never lasted long, and I always felt worse right after. 

It would be a long time before I could ever trust myself to do right.

And honestly? 

It’s still a struggle, but one I’m practicing every day. Weeks have gone by since the dispute with my mother, and I now feel lighter. At work, I’ve noticed myself being braver and speaking up about things even when I’m met with confusion or pushback. What’s surprised me is how quickly the fear dissipates when I’ve finally made up my mind to say something or advocate for myself. Though there are still times when I feel myself shrinking, I remind myself that nobody cares about me as deeply as I have to care for myself. I mean, aside from the people currently in my life who love me. But the difference is that they’ve never asked me to play small to make them feel better. They encouraged me to blossom and find things that make me thrive and happier. 

Though this self-liberation is far from perfect, it continues to build the steadiness my inner child needed to feel safe and seen again. Sometimes it hurts to put yourself first when others respond negatively to it. But what I now understand about safety is that it has to come from establishing trust with yourself, and not from playing small or being passive. 

I used to think saving myself from harm or hurt meant I had to become someone new. Someone lovable and deserving of care. But I’ve been uncovering my true self beneath the lies. This is my truth. Through the guilt, underneath the noise, I am someone who never needed to be rescued; I just needed to come home to myself.