Translator: Sonia Weyers Reviewer: TED Translators admin
I'm ten years old, I'm lying on my bed
cuddled in my covers, crying.
I feel sad, my heart feels heavy and raw.
My parents are both sitting on my bed, my mom behind my dad.
I'd just had an argument with my mom and they had both followed me upstairs.
My dad is looking at me intently, and with genuine concern he asks me:
"What's going on?"
And through my tears I answer him,
"My mom doesn't understand me."
In the corner of my eye, I can see that she is looking at me with an awkward smile
which confirms to me that she doesn't.
And the sadness intensifies.
I feel confused, tears roll down my face.
My head is fogging, and my legs feel weak.
I could not connect with my mom in the way I longed to, and
over the years this caused me a lot of sadness, despair, also anger.
Sometimes rage!
Being an only child seemed to only make it worse.
It was like a deep emptiness inside of me,
like a silent, invisible trauma
that I just could not escape.
Growing up, I seemed to be successful at everything I did.
But my relationships with people always felt unsuccessful.
I was looking for my mother's love in everyone.
That couldn't work.
The broken relationship with my mother was sneakily pervading all areas of my life.
And my dad's love just could not fill the void.
What I realized much later
is that I could heal from this broken relationship with my mother.
And when I did,
all the other relationships in my life were transformed.
But the journey to get there took me more than 30 years.
The first time I went to therapy I was 20,
and whatever was happening in my life between the sessions, I walked in,
and for an hour I anxiously talked about my mother
and all the things she did or said that seem crazy to me.
What I remember most vividly is the feeling of wanting to be seen
and loved, but mostly seen as I was.
It wasn't so much that my mom couldn't understand me but more that
she couldn't see me for who I really was.
It was like she had an image of who she wanted me to be.
Attachment theory tell us that:
"In order to develop a sense of true self,
a child depends on what it sees in
the mother's facial responses.
Just like in a mirror."
I just could not see myself clearly in my mother's eyes.
And over the years this started showing up in big and small ways.
It was extremely difficult for me to feel what I wanted.
For example, when trying to order food in a restaurant or trying to think of what
I would do when I grew up.
Sometimes I found myself running into the night,
trying to get away from the pain that I felt inside.
My first love relationship was wonderful.
I felt the love and closeness that I craved
and being together felt joyful for both of us.
But at the age of 18, I ended it.
And in the process, I broke my own heart.
I just could not embrace that much love and happiness.
6 years later, I got married.
I had fallen in love with a man with who I felt the
same pain as with my mother.
It felt like he didn't really love me, just like with my mother.
I sensed this almost right away, but this was the relationship I needed.
I was going to make it better.
You see, I strongly believe that if I could get my mom to change,
if I could only get her or my husband to love me the way I craved to be loved,
everything would be alright.
17 years and 4 children later, we began to slowly separate.
I was not able to fix it.
But with the help of several therapists over many years,
I began to grasp a better sense of who I was.
And my outlook started changing.
And one day it descended on me, this thing washed over me.
It had never even been possible to fix it.
And I tried so hard, for so long.
So I sat and sobbed.
I sobbed for what felt like hours,
and as I took this in, something in me finally let go.
I had come to realize that I could not change anyone other than myself.
A friend commented that I seemed much less angry.
That's right, I had been quite angry about not having my needs to met.
But now I knew, my mother had done the best she could, and so had my husband.
I just wish I could have known this sooner.
The most important part of my transformation is
coming to a place of deep acceptance, that people are the way they are.
As I progressively took this in,
I stopped looking for love and validation in others,
and became able to interact with them in an open way,
to be curious about them, rather than making it all about me.
This changed absolutely everything for me.
A few years ago, my mom started showing signs of cognitive decline
and in the last year of her life I was able to be with her, really be with her.
I wasn't trying to get anything anymore from her.
She had the right to be the way she was,
and I had the right to be who I was.
We spent many days together that year and
I enjoyed several simple moments with her.
Such as embroidering this Easter chicken together;
she did the lines, and I did the turns.
In the last few months of her life she often push me away when
I went to see her.
My dad felt sorry for me.
But I never took it to heart, I would just give her a kiss and say:
"You don't wanna see me today? That's ok, I'll come back later."
I had found peace with her and in my life.
I really had to learn the hard way
how to take responsibility for my own needs.
But in the process, I discovered three ways, three steps that can
really make a huge difference.
I would like you to think of a relationship that you are struggling with.
Number one:
Start by becoming intimate with your emotional needs.
Really familiarize yourself with those,
and become aware that they are your needs.
It may have been that parent's job to take care of those needs,
but they are your needs.
Number two:
Find in yourself the grudge that you're holding on to.
And wonder out loud:
"Hm, what would it take for me to let go of that grudge?"
And when you know, see if you're willing.
Often we think we cannot forgive,
that it would be letting the other person off the hook;
well, it is really you that you would be letting off the hook.
Number three:
Identify at least one similarity
and one difference between you and that person.
Then observe that you have the right to be you,
and they have the right to be themselves.
Having painstakingly gone through this journey, I can tell you that.
I now have an amazing love relationship
that feels very much like my first love.
I can now embrace that much love and happiness.
I have warm and open relationships with my four children.
I enjoy deep and meaningful friendships,
and I love the work of helping others become happier,
more peaceful versions of themselves.
Can you picture a world where we would all follow these steps?
Where we would actually do what it takes
to heal of our past relationships so that we can enjoy our current ones?
It's November of 2018, the phone rings.
My mom has just been taken to the hospital,
after nearly choking to death,
and she is quite agitated.
As I enter her hospital room, she greats me with visible relief.
This was priceless.
Several hours later, my dad and I are still standing on either side of her bed.
And suddenly she reaches for and grabs
both of our hands and presses them close to her.
I just had to grab the phone out of my pocket and capture this picture.
This picture.
Six weeks later, I am saying goodbye to my parents before going on a trip.
My mom is a little bit restless, and she pushes me away.
I feel a tinge of superstitious concern and I insist a bit
but I look for my place of acceptance.
And I just give her a kiss and say,
"It's ok, I'll come see you when I get back."
I didn't realize that I would never see her again.
But thank goodness, I had found a way to forgive my mother.
It took me more than 30 years but I did it
and it radically changed my life.
I found happiness that I never knew was possible.
So think about it.
Is there someone in your life that you can forgive
to reach your happiness?
Thank you very much.