Recently, the article The Strained Relationship Between Black Mothers and Their Daughterswas trending on my newsfeed. I didn’t pay much attention to it, at first. Then it popped up again in an online group I’m in. Initially, I felt an immediate need to reject it. I always get anxious when I see articles like this. I feel that Black mothers tend to already be overly criticized, so why add fuel to the fire. However, I decided I needed to be open-minded and read the article.
While I have mixed feelings about the article, I had to acknowledge that it was the author’s truth and the story for many Black daughters. There are some Black mothers who lack affection for their daughters. They have never dealt with their own unresolved issues. There are some who are simply narcissistic and even see their daughters as competition.
I felt the article was missing something. I think it’s important to examine the complexities of Black motherhood. Of course, this is not to condone emotional/physical/mental abusive behavior. There are some parents who are just rotten people. But there are certain stresses that Black mothers contend with that may affect their relationships with their children.
Black motherhood has never been valued in this society, and is always under attack. Since being brought here as slave labor/breeders, Black women had to quickly redefine what was being a mother/motherhood. This has contributed to a long, shaky journey of trying to figure out what is the “right” way to mother. Mothering outside of white ideology.
A few day ago, I came across a social media platform, where the male host highlights stories of domestic violence/and other traumas in the Black community. I thought this was admirable, especially since we need more Black men thoughtfully discussing these issues.
Our society has strange views when it comes to mothers. On one hand we exalt mothers, heap praise upon them (Mother’s Day), yet don’t provide concrete support for them such as universal childcare. As a matter of fact, majority of mothers are treated poorly on a daily basis, especially Black mothers. I often see mothers struggling with kids/strollers/bags/toys etc., while people push past them in a hurry. Usually, it’s mothers who will help other mothers by offering a hand or comforting an upset child.
I’ll never forget flying back to Portland with my 1 1/2 year old. He started hollering on the plane. There were other mothers on board. One sent some of her children’s snacks to me via fellow passengers. Another played with him to keep him distracted. One tried to carry on a normal conversation with me, to calm me. It was my first time traveling with my toddler, so it was a bit overwhelming for me. Recently, I saw an article about a mother who went through a similar situation at an airport. When I read that, it resonated with me.
Funny enough, I never wanted children. Honestly, I didn’t think I was mother material. And still wonder at times. I was surprised when I found out I was pregnant, but decided to keep chugging along. Curiosity got the best of me. I’m an older mom. I had my son at 41. So, it was a huge life change for me. My journey into motherhood has been interesting. I tend to have mixed feelings about it. I love my son, of course. I enjoy watching him come into his own. He’s a quirky kid, which I like. However, I miss my freedom sometimes. I think my ambivalence towards motherhood, is due to how it started out. It was chaotic and traumatic.
My little one will be turning two soon. It just seems like yesterday, I was holding him in my arms for the first time.
I’m an old mama. I had my son when I was 41. I never wanted children. I didn’t think motherhood was for me. I liked being on my own. Life happens, though.
It’s been an interesting experience. I tend to liken my parenting skills to an episode on The Simpsons.
Homer realizes he has been a horrible parent. He decides to make it up to Bart and Lisa. Of course, he bumbles his way through, making things worse. Finally, Bart fed up with the shenanigans, tells his dad “Your half ass under-parenting was better than your half ass over-parenting.” Homer replies sadly, “But I’m using my whole ass.”
Once you decide to become a parent, you will be making a huge sacrifice. This sacrifice is even more jarring when you are older. You have spent the majority of your life doing whatever the hell you wanted to do. Those days are over. I’ve learned to accept these things since becoming a mother.
You will always be tired. A good friend (also an older mom), warned me that I will never sleep again. When you are having your child, you roll your eyes at folks who tell you this. After all, YOU will be different. You will have that kid on a schedule. Ha, ha! The joke’s on me. I haven’t slept well since, uh the kid was born.
You will constantly be in battle with patience. While pregnant, I reassured myself that it would all work out. I’m older. I would be more patient. I would never be like those moms in the store with bulging eyes and throbbing neck veins, frustrated with their children. That lasted 2.5 seconds. Kids are not an extension of you. They are their own people with their own thoughts emotions, etc. They can and will work your nerves.
You will question why you did it. In our society, mothers are expected to romanticize parenthood. Nope. The truth is, I question all the time if I did the right thing. When you have a child, it’s not just about cute clothes, Disneyland trips, etc., it’s about raising a well-rounded human being. What’s messed up, despite giving your all, the kid could still grow up to dislike you. I know so many folks who don’t talk to their parents. You never know how it’s going to turn out.