Dialogue: ‘I don’t love my mother’

Each issue columnist and author of Shoot 
The Damn Dog: A Memoir of Depression, Sally Brampton, explores an emotional issue with 
a reader. Here, she talks to Maria, 55, who 
feels resentful towards her family

Maria: My mother has dementia, so we’ve had to find a home for her and she’s not particularly settled there. Our relationship has always been difficult. 
I was sent to live with my grandmother when I was a baby, so I didn’t live with her until I was five. I remember my dad sitting me on his knee – but my mother doesn’t feature at all.

Sally: That’s understandable, because you missed out on the most important formative years. Do you feel resentful about being sent away?
M: I do a bit. My dad passed away 
and there doesn’t seem to be anybody now who can tell me why it happened, other than being told there was no 
room for me.

S: That’s a pretty awful thing to 
hear. Have you ever said anything 
to your mother?
M: No. I find it quite hard to confront people. I’m what you call a people-pleaser.

S: Well, if you were abandoned as a small child you become desperate to please people because you want so badly to be accepted…
M: When I was 10, my cousin came to live with us for a while and I felt my mum sided with her. She was quite dismissive, really. My sister is always telling me to ‘get over it’ – and I suppose I should.

S: I think feeling dismissed by your 
own mother is very hard to get over.
M: My sister is 16 years younger than me and she and my mother are really close. When she sends cards, she writes things like ‘Darling Mum… All my love’, and 
I could never do that. She accuses me 
of not caring or doing enough. Before Mum was in a home, there was quite 
a long time when she needed looking 
after and I’d be there all day – but my husband’s not very supportive and wanted me at home cooking dinner, 
so my sister had to do nights. In the 
end we had an almighty row.

S: Did it clear the air?
M: A bit, but I still feel I’m on trial 
and have to go over the top with everything I do.

S: But don’t you feel like that anyway?
M: I suppose I do, yes.

S: So when your husband says he wants 
you at home cooking his dinner when 
you’re busy caring for your sick mother,
you seem to find it hard to say no?
M: Yes, it is difficult for me. We 
haven’t had an easy relationship.

S: He sounds quite cold. Isn’t 
it interesting how we follow certain patterns? Your mother sounds 
quite cold too.
M: Yes, she is – whereas my dad was 
the warmest person in the world. Very cuddly, touchy-feely and would give 
bear hugs. Sorry, I’m going to cry…

S: You’re allowed to cry. Crying is good.
M: I miss my dad and feel guilty that 
I don’t have feelings for my mother like 
I should – that love-bond.

S: There’s no rule that says we have 
to love our mothers. Did you feel happy with your dad because he 
was a “giver”?
M: Oh yes. If I needed him, I could phone any time – day or night – and he would always come and get me, whereas my husband would never do that. He’s a bit more like my mum in that respect.

S: What’s the problem you feel you need to resolve with your mum?
M: I don’t want to go and visit her. The only reason I do is because part of me thinks I should and part of me thinks my sister will have a go at me if I don’t – which she probably would, and rightly so.

S: It seems you care too much about what people think and believe you’re always going to be told off.
M: I think that’s right. Every time 
my sister tells me to do something, 
I feel I have to phone her as soon as 
I’ve done it. I probably want her to say, ‘Oh great, well done!’

S: So you’re looking for approval?
M: Yes, all the time.

S: Do you want your mum to love you, or do you want to love your mum?
M: Neither.

S: That’s interesting…
M: Isn’t that awful?

S: No, it’s not awful. It’s how you feel. So you’ve been doing this stuff out of duty?
M: Yes, always. And I feel really guilty about that.

S: That sense of guilt and duty seems to be constant. You do everything for other people and nothing for yourself.
M: Yes, I’ve always felt a bit surplus 
to requirements.

S: That’s such a sad phrase. You have every right to feel the way you do, 
but I sense you don’t think you have any rights at all.
M: I don’t think I do, actually. But 
it’s good to hear otherwise.

S: So what do you want to do?
M: I want to shed some of 
the guilt and feel like my 
own person.

S: So you’ve got to 
learn to say no…
M: Exactly, but whenever I do I always feel I’ve got to make a long speech. You should see my notes 
to the milkman.

S: One thing a therapist said that’s always stuck in my mind is that ‘no’ 
is a complete sentence. Just say, 
‘No, I’m sorry, but I can’t.’ You don’t need to make excuses.
M: I know it’s wrong, but I can’t 
stop doing it.

S: It’s not wrong. It’s just not good for 
us emotionally to keep apologising. Perhaps you need to establish boundaries. It seems you’re allowing other people to leak into you.
M: That’s exactly how I feel. I get more confident and assert myself, but then 
I think, ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have done that.’ Then I spend time talking to one of the old ladies in the home because she’s lonely and I think, ‘Well, I can’t be that bad a person…’

S: Why do you think you are?
M: Because of the way I feel about my mother.

S: We’ve got to think of things for you to do to make you feel 
better about yourself. Let’s put together a list:
- ‘No’ is a complete sentence.
- I am allowed to be happy.
- I am allowed not to feel guilty.
- I will not use words or phrases 
like ‘inadequate’ or ‘not good 
enough’ about myself.
- I am a good person.
- I will stop giving my power to 
other people.
M: You’re right. I do feel powerless a lot of the time, and that’s why.

S: Put a rubber band around your wrist and every time you have a negative thought about yourself, snap that band. It will remind you to replace 
it with something positive.
M: I will. That’s a really good idea.

S: Just take it a step at a time. These are habits that have been embedded since childhood. It would be good to drop the guilt about not loving your mother and make peace with your feelings before she dies.
M: Yes, I want her to be as comfortable and happy as possible. But that’s as far as it goes.

S: Your mother might have abandoned you, but you have never abandoned her. You’ve been very kind to her over the years and I think that’s enough.
M: I think so too.

S: Do you really?
M: Yes, or at least I do now.

S: And no more people-pleasing.
M: Yes, that’s a very bad habit that’s been there for a long time. Years ago I was with friends and my husband wanted to do something I wasn’t happy about, so 
I said, ‘I’m going to put my foot down… 
if I can.’ They laugh about it to this day.

S: Let’s turn that around in your head and say, ‘I am putting my foot down.’
M: And I am… because I can.

S: Exactly. Give yourself permission. 
Let go of all this stuff that’s sitting on your shoulders.
M: Yes, no wonder they ache all the time. I’ve been carrying a burden of guilt.

S: When I said to you just now you’re a really nice person, your eyes filled with tears.
M: I know.

S: You’ve got to start believing it. 
Do you think you can do that?
M: Yes, I do actually. I feel 
much freer and lighter.

- If you have an emotional issue you would like to discuss with Sally (this will be kept strictly confidential), then write to Healthy magazine, River Publishing, 3rd Floor, 1 Neal Street, London WC2H 9QL or to healthy@riverltd.co.uk.