Truth be told, some people have mothers they wished they never had. The mothers no one wanted.
The cold reality is that parents were thrust upon us. We didn’t have a choice. But then, neither did they!
Most of us were raised by parents who didn’t know the first thing about parenting. They learned by trial and error. Some of us got the brunt of their errors. But then, some of us also rode on the crest of our parents’ successes.
If you have wealthy, loving, supportive parents, your probability for success in life is dizzyingly high. Why? Because they can afford to send you to the best schools, spend for extracurriculars like fencing or piano or art classes. Not to mention frequent travels abroad that broaden your perspective and life goals.
But if you were born to poor parents, sadly, the opposite is true. It’ll take stratospheric intelligence or talent and so many, many more sacrifices, strategizing and savvy on your part to reach the top.
Like it or not, we inherited our parents’ DNAs. They also passed on to us what they got from their parents — the good and the bad. We learned many things by osmosis.
If you belong to a lineage that has loving, supportive, responsible parents without any addictions, vices, mean streaks, uncontrollable rages, mental health issues, corrupt tendencies, horrible insecurities or poor health, you are extremely fortunate. Enviably blessed. If you fail in life, you have no one but yourself to blame.
Tragically, there’s the opposite side of this. One of the most destructive forces I’ve seen is having a mean mom. They damage their children, many times beyond repair.
One of the things I enjoy on Mother’s Day is reading heartwarming stories about mothers. Some of the most extraordinary ones I’ve heard were from people whose mothers made unbelievable sacrifices for their children — so that they could go to school, buy new uniforms, buy the latest book editions, put food on the table. Even when the fathers were hard working, some mothers would have little businesses on the side, or do odd jobs — they’d scrimp and save just to be able to give more to their children.
I personally know of one mom who did laundry on the side just to send her son to one of our most prestigious private schools. Her son deftly climbed up the social ladder, married someone with money, and has done well for himself and his family. That’s a success story with a good mom as its wings.
But mean moms are a different category altogether. Some brainwash their sons to be abnormally attached to, and overly dependent on them. So that even if their sons get married, “mommy dearest always comes first.” Imagine all the broken marriages that were caused by over-controlling mothers.
Or moms who trained their children to get ahead at all costs. Moms who’d do anything for their children to get the gold, be the valedictorian, get the top position in class. Sinister moms like this raise their children to become predators, dirty players, and corrupt individuals later in life. While integrity is modeled, so are cheating and manipulation.
Then there are mothers who are physically, verbally and emotionally abusive. Some are alcoholics, gamblers, some are addicts, some — very sadly — are suffering from mental diseases that were never diagnosed or treated. More often than not, they raise up children who are as mean, abusive, and destructive as them.
The scary part is, all these mean, cruel, destructive mothers raise children who are their clones — or even worse. If you marry one who was raised by a mean mom, you’ll have to put on tons and tons of protective armor to protect your children and yourself from contamination.
While my mom was generous, kind, and far from abusive, she was an absentee mom. She was away on business for inordinate amounts of time, leaving me to the diligent care of my grandma who was kind — but also distant and detached like my mom.
So I grew up distant and detached, largely uncomfortable with closeness. Most of my early relationships were transactional.
Until one day, someone who I considered my best friend confronted me about it. God used her to shatter the walls I had built around me. While I lost her as a best friend (she’d had enough of my being distant and detached), she taught me how life-changing it was to invest time, effort and affection in relationships that I valued. I had to stop being just a taker.
I’m happy to say that my former best friend and I reconnected, in the most marvelous way, decades later.
She had a loving mom. That’s why she knew, even when she was still very young, what a healthy and wholesome friendship should be. She taught me well, and I am deeply grateful to her.
It makes a world of difference to our children — and the people they will marry — when we intentionally choose to be good, loving moms.
