A Psychotherapist & Mom Explains How To Navigate The Mother Or Father Wound

After having my first daughter, I was astounded by the number of needs she had. And yet, I had done enough emotional work to understand that her needs were all valid and that her demands of me were so right.

But damn, did it trigger the younger parts of me that weren't allowed to be needy. When I was young, I had to figure out how to be exactly who my mother needed me to be in order to receive her love and affection.

This belief—that my authentic self was not "enough," and then the coping strategy I employed to rectify this "lack," adapting the self to meet my mother's expectations—was evidence that I was a recipient of an intergenerational inheritance: a mother wound.

In a patriarchal culture, women are socially conditioned to think of themselves as lacking. To cope, women develop savvy strategies to perform an identity that will be affirmed and deemed deserving and worthy. Most women know these daily habits all too well: Smiling when we feel sad or angry, nodding along when we want to say no, working hard when we need rest, being in control when we want to go wild, and giving when we want to take.

Our society isn't organized for us to address the pain of the mother wound. We are a fast-paced culture, one that encourages women to self-deny on behalf of a capitalist and misogynistic agenda. We internalize and carry oppressive beliefs about ourselves and pass them on to our children.

While the term "mother wound" can be helpful to explore how internalized misogyny gets passed through generations, it also has its limitations. I am critical of this term, which locates the wound inside of the mother.

I argue that the term distracts from the sources of the pain and social neglect mothers experience—mothers do not parent in a silo separate from this culture, and it's no surprise that there is not a coined term for a "father wound."

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, you are not alone and you are not the problem. The patriarchal wound doesn't exist because there is an inherent defect within women and moms but rather because the body that you were born into has not received the social respect it deserves. 

These beliefs exist for good reason. When we witness our parents struggle as children, we have no choice but to blame ourselves or wonder if we are the problem because we are dependent on them and therefore can't feel too negatively about them.

Just like a literal wound, emotional wounds need to be tended to, and we must apply suture in order to heal. If we don't, pain often stays within the family and therefore continues to get passed down through generations.

This is because women are often given the message that society cannot tolerate our big and justified emotions, including anger. Often that anger is then misdirected toward ourselves and our children. 

Anger, one of the primary human emotions, has often been a reaction for injustice—and a message for us if we choose to listen to it. If we don't allow ourselves to feel it, we cannot identify what it needs to be released.

I remember a huge realization when I determined that the times in my life that I have been most liked by others were the times when I felt most deprived of my human needs for food, love, and care. To this end, because mothers are expected to be even-keeled, constantly warm, and giving, we have had no choice but to rage against ourselves.

Motherly's State of Motherhood report found that 43% of mothers reported feeling completely burnt out: tired, irritated, and resentful. While tending to the needs of others, our own negative emotions get bottled up and weigh heavily. Deemed unfeminine and unbecoming, and sometimes even resulting in social punishment for People of Color, we deny our rage and instead opt for self-doubt and guilt. This keeps us stuck but socially digestible–a misogynistic culture loves a silent and compliant woman who doesn't question the status quo. 

Instead, I want to invite you to investigate your anger about your and your ancestors' need to self-deny to be accepted. Ask yourself: how do you want your anger to be released? I have visited rage rooms to release my anger, participated in scream therapy, and created a "rage corner" in my daughters' room for them to go where they can safely express their anger.

Notice if you believe that closeness and sameness are the same thing, as this is one of the beliefs that reinforce a patriarchal wound.

Oftentimes we felt we had to be "like" our mothers in order to be accepted by them. What would it be like to allow your child to be different from you?

Encouraging them to set boundaries with you, to disagree with others, to turn down hugs when they aren't in the mood, to trust their intrinsic signals of what is right rather than external cues of what is acceptable, and to tell you they dislike the things you like. 

Sometimes getting in touch with what we need can bring up grief because we become connected to the pain of what it was like to live without it for so long.