definition
something i read yesterday made me think about something i said recently.
i answered an ad from someone who needed volunteers to dig her garden. she has terminal cancer and young children. i thought the one thing i have a fair bit of these days is time, which she doesn't. it turned out she is connected to me via her daughter, although i didn't know it when i rang her.
we were sitting having coffee with some friends last week and the conversation turned to what makes us tick. i found myself saying, in a voice that sounded like someone had their hands round my throat (as i always sound when on this subject) that i had left my mum when i was 8 and that it had defined me and shaped everything i did to one degree or another. the minute i said it i thought how absurd it sounded; a woman of nearly 50 on the outside and only 8 years old on the inside.
another thing that came into the conversation that day, as we all had connections with autism, and also with twins, was that i said i thought my mum might have been autistic and that her identical twin probably was too.
i spend much of my life as an advocate for my son; telling the world how he sees and feels things (at least how i think he does), fighting for his rights, nurturing his talents and tending his hurts. i like to think i understand a fair bit about life on the autistic spectrum, both through my son and myself. yet in all this time i have never really given a thought to how the two things interacted in my mum's case.
her fear of germs, her obsessive compulsive tendencies, her social prickliness, her apparent lack of sense of humour, her chronic anxiety. how did these things fit with a series of violent partners, a wild, uncontrollable, hyperactive child, a world where women were supposed to toe the line and be submissive? how did she manage as a woman with intellectual interests, self-taught and proud, on a rough council estate? was she aware of the laughter at her flamboyant clothes, her wide-brimmed hat with a red rose, her lipstick, her vowels? did she feel alone; adrift?
i have in the past looked at her rejection of me as a function of her being a twin. that she had already known too much closeness. but maybe the explanation lies elsewhere. what if there had been more support and understanding? would she have felt she had to give me up then?
i will never know the answers to these questions. but i am coming round to the idea that i have to work towards re-defining myself. i have to take up the mantle of a fighter, a woman of integrity and strength, humour and kindness, and leave behind the 8 year old with an empty space inside. until i do that i have one hand tied behind my back.
i answered an ad from someone who needed volunteers to dig her garden. she has terminal cancer and young children. i thought the one thing i have a fair bit of these days is time, which she doesn't. it turned out she is connected to me via her daughter, although i didn't know it when i rang her.
we were sitting having coffee with some friends last week and the conversation turned to what makes us tick. i found myself saying, in a voice that sounded like someone had their hands round my throat (as i always sound when on this subject) that i had left my mum when i was 8 and that it had defined me and shaped everything i did to one degree or another. the minute i said it i thought how absurd it sounded; a woman of nearly 50 on the outside and only 8 years old on the inside.
another thing that came into the conversation that day, as we all had connections with autism, and also with twins, was that i said i thought my mum might have been autistic and that her identical twin probably was too.
i spend much of my life as an advocate for my son; telling the world how he sees and feels things (at least how i think he does), fighting for his rights, nurturing his talents and tending his hurts. i like to think i understand a fair bit about life on the autistic spectrum, both through my son and myself. yet in all this time i have never really given a thought to how the two things interacted in my mum's case.
her fear of germs, her obsessive compulsive tendencies, her social prickliness, her apparent lack of sense of humour, her chronic anxiety. how did these things fit with a series of violent partners, a wild, uncontrollable, hyperactive child, a world where women were supposed to toe the line and be submissive? how did she manage as a woman with intellectual interests, self-taught and proud, on a rough council estate? was she aware of the laughter at her flamboyant clothes, her wide-brimmed hat with a red rose, her lipstick, her vowels? did she feel alone; adrift?
i have in the past looked at her rejection of me as a function of her being a twin. that she had already known too much closeness. but maybe the explanation lies elsewhere. what if there had been more support and understanding? would she have felt she had to give me up then?
i will never know the answers to these questions. but i am coming round to the idea that i have to work towards re-defining myself. i have to take up the mantle of a fighter, a woman of integrity and strength, humour and kindness, and leave behind the 8 year old with an empty space inside. until i do that i have one hand tied behind my back.
posted by mafalda's daughter at 12:58 pm
1 Comments:
What a beautiful post!
We live in a world where people are all to often judgmental, they shun anyone who is in any way at all different. Even in this so called welfare state, it is so often hard to be listened to, to receive the support we really need, particularly if we are not coping well with some aspect of our lives. It is not acceptable to admit that you cannot cope in any way.
It is quite probable that your mum did indeed feel very lonely and unsupported. I believe that your new insight into her life will probably help you a lot to free yourself from the past; we can never become a completely 'whole' person while we harbour resentment or guilt connected with the past. We need to leave the past - with all its ghosts - behind.
Sending you lots of hugs. Good luck!
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