[entry-title permalink="0"]

I haven’t always been the best mother.

Hard to say, hard to feel.

I can give a lot of reasons for why that is, (having an abusive mother, perhaps the main reason)  but the fact remains, I have often been impatient, distant, frustrated, annoyed, thoughtless and unavailable.

I am not very nurturing or lovey dovey and I never really had the mother bear instinct so many women claim to have. 

If forgiveness was a spectrum, I’d be at the half way mark with this one and I’m sure each day I probably add to the list of mommy infractions that require even more self forgiveness. Some days I may fall below the half way mark, depending on how I feel.  Forgiveness is tricky that way.   

The truth is, it just doesn’t feel good to feel so inadequate at the most important relationship I have ever known and yet…I have compassion for the fractured child who grew up and had a baby at sixteen, and didn’t know what to do with her. I have compassion for the girl who had to grow up while she raised her own little girl and didn’t have the foggiest idea who to be or how to be.

I forgive myself for still being in the process of learning how to love. I forgive myself for the many times I didn’t get it right despite the the huge amount of motherlove in my heart. 

That little girl has been my best teacher. She is now a woman who loves me despite the unforgiveables and doesn’t go a day, without saying I love you. If she can forgive me, who am I not to.