Of Mothers, Daughters and the Wounds That Shape Us…
Written by Anjuelle Floyd
View original blog.
Injury to the mother-daughter relationship rents a profound wound, and gives rise to serious strain between both daughters and mothers.
Does my mother love me? Why does my daughter hate me so much? Why doesn’t she love me? A question often asked by both daughter and mother. And for the daughter, “If mama doesn’t love me, when who will? Or who can?” These questions and more along with the associated feelings of worthlessness, anger and ultimate hurt, usually possess an ancestral quality.
The emotional trauma that both mother and daughter experience and inflict each upon the other stands rooted in a history of tense relations between the mothers and daughters from generations past in the family.
Bringing awareness to the fact they live embroiled in a larger we of interactions that came before them offers the first part of healing.
“Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me.” Psalm 51:5
The iniquity in to which all women and men are born contains the hurt and pains of past generations, words wrongly spoken, acts committed without concern of affect, hatred born and nurture out of a love, we hold for those with whom we sleep, live and eat, and that is greater than that which we hold for God and ourselves.
Sin lies in our refusal to acknowledge how much we hurt.
One can argue whether we as humans are correct or wrong in living and loving as we do, or whether the adoration we hold for those who hurt us so deeply, even approaches actual love.
One truth remains.
We hurt terribly and it pains us immensely when those we hold in high esteem, fathers, mother, husbands, wives, brother, sisters, etc. do not accept us as we are, shaped and molded by the aches and emotional pains borne by the bodies and souls of those who came before us.
No relationship evidences this more than that between mothers and daughters.
Without the love, unconditional and forever promised, by the woman whose body and soul portaled our entry into this world, we daughters are condemned to forever walk the earth, our living, thoughts and actions reflective of that of a motherless child.
No amount of degrees, financial and/or physical achievements can give what only a mother’s kiss and hug accompanied with the words, “I love you, my daughter, forever,” provide.
It is at this point that in saying these words, mother and daughter become mother for the other and daughter of both.
And so the healing begins.
When was the last time you hugged your daughter?
When was the last time you told your mother how much she means to you?
How often do you stand before a mirror give yourself a pat on the back and smile back?
About the Author
Anjuelle Floyd is a wife of twenty-eight years, mother of three, licensed Marriage and Family Therapist specializing in mother-daughter relations and dream work. As a graduate of Duke University, she received her MA in Counseling Psychology from the California Institute of Integral San Francisco. She has attended the Dominican Institute of Philosophy and Theology Berkeley, California, and received her MFA in Creative Writing from Goddard College, Port Townsend, Washington. She has also received certificates of participation from 'The Hurston-Wright Writers’ Week' and 'The Voices of Our Nations Writing Workshops'.
Anjuelle host’s a BlogTalk Radio discussion show with artists, entrepreneurs and authors, that broaden our understanding of the creative process, address the importance of family, and highlights the impact of books in our lives. The radio show is called 'Book Talk, Creativity & Family Matters'.
A student of Process Painting for the last decade, Anjuelle has participated in The Art of Living Black Exhibitions 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010 held at the Richmond Art Center, Richmond, California.
Anjuelle Floyd facilitates writing groups and provides individual consultation of fiction projects. She also gives talks on the 'Need for Family' and the 'Writing Process as a Path towards Self-discovery and Healing'.