Here am I, another year older today, in fact. I’m old. Still my heart lingers to have and receive love that was never given to me. While I now understand some of the dynamics of how and the whys, my yearning for a mother-daughter love will go to the grave with me.
Years of counseling, delving into my childhood issues, we hit on a lot of important issues and so many I never knew, just knowing through life, I was missing love, not fully understanding why.
Somebody, please love me!
Looking back, I do not remember as a child be snuggled or loved on. Realizing I was the last child of seven and fully taking it as an oops baby, and after seven years from my sibling. I knew and just accepted that life was busy with the others and just existed. While I existed and took it all in stride, I was left reeling for much-needed love and attention.
I became very independent as a child and put in responsible positions, even at the age of six. I was used for babysitting that early and on my own, for one or more children. I would not even consider doing such for my boys, but they did me. I got the job done, the babies and kids loved me, as I was a kid myself. I was very dependable and loved the opportunity, while now knowing they used and basically abused me in that fashion. No six year old, much less younger than twelve, should be placed in that position.
Scary enough, while bringing this up, I remember using a gas stove that had to start by a match, in order to heat up a bottle of milk. I tried it but was so unsure of myself and probably one reason fire scares me to this day. Thankfully, I was smart enough to run the bottle under hot water to do the same. I could have blown us up and the building. It didn’t help that I let this baby, another time, roll off the couch. They trusted me. Nuts!
Back to the other, still trying to understand when, where and why this all happened to me, I found I was drawn to other motherly figures. Most that I was drawn to, I realized a pattern, they gave me attention, they talked to me, wanting to know me, I was able to sit next to them and that I did. I could not get close enough, just let my arm touch yours was my secure attachment that flooded my heart with love. I needed that closeness.
To this day, I still like that or the feeling of one to pat my arm or back as in, thata girl, or I am proud of you, you are special, I care. If I felt a closeness to you, a motherly sense, you could probably hit me (just using this as an example) and I would be fine. Why? Because whether it be a pat on the back, your hand touching my arm, etc., I can burn that image and that feeling in my mind to pull up afterward whether it be soon after, days or years. I needed that touch. I needed to know you cared enough to do that. Silly I know but my heart, my mind and my soul yearns for love.
What was it that caused disconnection between my mom and I? I may never know. While I know she was my mother, I was her daughter, I am in the family, there was something missing between us.
Years and years and still, although less nowadays, I clung to others in that role or similar. Often in my mind trying to relay to another, hoping they would read my mind. My mind screaming within, ‘Please Hug Me’ as my love bank was low.
The void of love given to me was lost somewhere and how sad that is of not knowing yet where.
Mother? May I … receive your love, your hugs, your snuggles, your care, your attention, your hand to pat me of thata girl, to be interested in me, to encourage me, to brag on me, just hold me, to tell me how much you loved me over and over again?
Mom, while you were there within my reach, I just existed. Why?
Today, I am understanding and also healing but most importantly, trusting the Lord.
I know without a doubt that He loves me, I feel His Love, He is with me at all times and that He will never leave me. ❤️