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A mothers love...


My Mum, is amazing she has always worked with those that suffer from anxiety and depression, she has worked amongst young people in care, adults and young people living with disabilities and elderly people also in care, so across the whole social work spectrum. She has always cared for everybody elses children, treating all my cousins and family friends like her own. She is like a mother hen. Strong, resilient, and ready for every challenge that faces her.


In my teenage years, i came to the conclusion my Mum does not like me. When i was in secondary school i was excluded twice in 1 year. That didn't make our relationship any better, my mum thought i was hanging with the wrong people, which frustrated me. What was actually happening was, i was finding myself transitioning from the weak one, to the strong one, and with that i had to lay down my territory, which in turn i became rude, overly assertive, defensive and full of attitude. I had enough of being bullied and crying secretly, and not having confidence to stand up for myself. So i was ready to channel my anger directly towards those that thought they could cross me. And it worked! Secondary school became easy! But my understanding of my mother become hazy. 


I remember writing poetry and asking my Mum if she wanted to read it, and she was never keen, because it was always dark. She often said why do you have to write about sad things and why are they so long. At the time, that was my expression, and the only way i could express how i was feeling. What i felt had no ending, just like the poetry i wrote, that kept going. At the time she didn't notice. But that was me screaming! 


My relationship with my mother through my eyes was distorted because i didn't believe she understood me or even cared to. It felt as though she dismissed my suffering for seeking attention. She provided me with everything that a child needs to grow into a happy successful young person. She made sure i didn't suffer any harm or discomfort in life. So because of that she couldn't understand my feelings. But depression does not discriminate. And although she knew that, as she has the experience and knowledge in her field of work, she was not forthcoming to accept my storm was real.


Now that i am older, and all my friends have children and i watch them grow. Now i have a better understanding of myself and my surroundings. I have now realised i probably didn't understand my mother, and i just as stubborn as she, who chose not to ask and not to confide which brought me to the incorrect conclusion my mother didn't like me. What i have learnt now is that she was just fearful. Not that she didn't understand, but that she didn't want it to be a reality. That her last born baby girl, can have such a storm brewing in her heart, but there is nothing she can do about it. She couldn't protect me from it, she couldn't cuddle me until it stopped. So instead created a barrier of misunderstanding in between us.


I have learnt slightly how to nurture the young people that i work with, to the best of my ability. For now they are my only children until i have my own, then the experiences and knowledge i have grown through my mother and my friends who are mothers. I hope to bring a happy, whole, confident child into the world who brings light to other peoples lives, through their heart and their smile..






I have asked a few Mothers that i know, to add a different angle to my post below. I hope you enjoy reading the stories, but also comment below, with your own. :)



'Since my dad passed my mum has always been my rock. Bossy, opinionated, moany and stubborn as ever. But my rock none the less. 

I have always been showered with love and affection growing up and my mother made sure that my brothers and I never went without. However, she never spoiled us, and she was always very firm in her belief that good manners and due respect should be at the centre of who we are. 

My mum was born in Jamaica and was a lot older than the mums of my friends. My mum was strict! And so I often missed out on the things everyone did growing up- out with friends or playing in the blocks. Or if I did get a chance to it was always cut short by my overprotective mother. (I do fully understand her actions now though!) 


She made sure we were involved in so many sports, dance, instruments and cadets/scouts clubs that we never really had anytime to 'hang out' anywhere. And i'm thankful for it.

I thought I couldn't possibly love her any more and then she became a grandmother to her first granddaughter, and it was the most beautiful thing to see. Its so funny to see how moany, bossy, opinionated, stubborn and loving my daughter is- just like her Nana! 

I'm thankful for my mother teaching me to love myself, for teaching me the value of family and showing me how to run a household even if i'm often slacking.

The love and respect I have for this woman is beyond words, and I'm realising this now as I take these steps with my own daughter. If I can do even half the job she did then I know Imai will be wonderful. After all I turned out alright haha!'








I'm 26, me and my mum didn't build a proper relationship until I was 24, and not because she wasn't around but because we did not like each other. We lived under the same roof and barely spoke. Before the age of 24 I don't even remember ever hugging or telling my mum I loved her. August 11th 2015, I literally had my heart broken, I honestly thought my world was caving in.  Funny enough that was the very day my relationship with my mum began. For the first time she saw me at my weakest, she saw me in my most vulnerable state. One of the worst days of my life, now that I think of it, is actually one of the best days. Me and my mum got to know each other all over again, we built a friendship and now we have such a strong relationship. I could never be the mother to my daughter, that I am now without her. Although I love my mum now, I worry about having the same distant relationship with my daughter that I had with my mum for most of my life. I worry that I may not have any control over stopping that from happening, as my mum explained she never wanted us to be like that, it just got like that. 








I loved my mum so much when I was a young child but as I got older I began to dislike her. She became a very closed person and I'm not sure if it was to do with my dad leaving, times getting harder or that me and my sister's were in the way. As i was growing up i would ask myself 'why doesn't my mum do what my friends mums do?, 'why do I always have to help around the house and with my sisters?'. I had my first child when I was 19 that year was the worst year of my life but my mum was a life saver she became everything I needed and more. She has continue to support and be there for me when ever she is needed. By having my own children I now have a more clear understanding how hard a mother works in order to have the simplest of things. I now see most of my mums actions differently. Me and my children have an amazing bond and a beautiful relationship, i use a lot of my mums ways to raise my own children. They love their nanny and I love my mummy. 








My mother and I never saw eye to eye, we differed so much I often wondered where I'd actually came from.  Perhaps if it were not for my dad I'd have actually believed my doubts.


My parents divorced when I was just 5, I remember begging for attention.  Sending little letters and notes to her, some in the forms of paper aeroplanes that would fall at her feet and there they would remain.  She would read them with disinterest as I peeked at her through the crack of the door.  Id be asking her to read stories with me, play a game or take us to the park.


As I grew, I assumed the responsibility of nurturing my little sister and showing her the affection our mother did not.  I became an angry child. Perhaps because of the overwhelming feeling that I was responsible in ways I should not have been.


I assume my moral compass has come from my father who provided us with a completely alternate life on the weekends.  We would eat lovely food and he would support and encourage our interests but it would be over all to quickly when Sunday came around.


My mum smoked, I couldn't bear it.  Then she would complain that she had no money for electric or sometimes food.  I nagged her so much about it that she eventually quit to get me off of her case. 

I cried so many nights, I'd jump into my sister's bed and hug her and tell her how much I loved her until we fell asleep.


My yearning for affection soon developed into a feeling of resentment for my father who did the best he could on his part.  I began to hate him for letting us live with her during the week.  I became an angrier teenager.


As an adult I still blame my parents for many of my indiscretions, however I realise that while my circumstances may have moulded me, they do not define me as it is my actions and own opinions that do that.


Now I have two beautiful children of my own, and before having then I grew up knowing the kind of parent I wanted to be. I knew that if I was going to do one thing right it would be that: Be an awesome mum.


Perhaps if I had been shown how to love and be loved better, I may have chosen a different man to have them with, perhaps I'd have someone to help me through my parenting struggles.  But then again, perhaps it is because of my upbringing that I have learnt how to be independent and not rely on anyone to help me and that I know how to give my time and attention fully.


I give them my time and adventures.  I introduce them to culture and try to make so much of what we do educational.  We have had days but I tell them how much I love them all the time. And I always show them I am proud.  Like I said, it is trying at times, and sometimes I can see my mum reflected in some of my actions.  But I am always reflecting and always actively thinking about how I'll best cultivate my little gems to become truly successful adults. And success to me, means being genuine, kind, open-minded and honest.











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November 2, 2018

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