There are writers who blog and bloggers who write. I often see myself straddling the two realms, which leaves me in a world of discomfort built on my own insecurities. When I stop to examine these anxieties it can turn into a whirlwind of blame and self-doubt. However, when I open myself to the rest of the blogosphere, realizing I am not the only navel gazer lurking these domains, I find comfort that there are others like me.
Today’s guest blogger is a writer who blogs. For me, she is a superhero, navigating a writer’s
world—a world I someday hope to enter. In
today’s post for Wednesday’s Woman she speaks to the vulnerability and
self-doubt that can plague us when we stop to examine our influences. But mostly, she speaks to the courage it
takes to examine the most complex relationship that exists—the mother-daughter
relationship.
I am honored to welcome Kerstin Auer, a writer and
consultant, who writes for magazines and book publishers. She also writes newsletters and has a talent
for helping her clients “tell their story and communicate more effectively.” She is a wife and mother. I also have the feeling she is quite a good
friend.
Join Kerstin at her blog Auer Life for your own 2013 Personal Revelation Revolution!
Wednesday's Woman: I Met My Mother
by Kerstin Auer
“A woman who has spoken to you in some way or who has made an impact in your life. Stories that have a personal connection…”
My head is spinning with thoughts on who my
Wednesday’s Woman could be… My best friend Renae – witty, funny, supportive and
a kick-ass public defender after putting herself through law school and passing
the bar exam at the age of 40. My daughter Pauline – a kind and compassionate
soul, completely comfortable with herself at 15 years old and so much more than
I ever was at that age. Amazing writers and survivors and inspirers I have met
(even if only virtually) since I started blogging and dipped my toes into the
Twitter pool.
All those women have inspired me, made an
impact in my life and even though I’m desperately trying to ignore this voice
inside of me, it just won’t shut up and keeps whispering in my ear: “You know
it’s your mom. Your Wednesday’s Woman is your mother.”
When thinking about women I connected with
or who made an impact in my life my mother is certainly the last person I want
to think about. Throughout most of my childhood and into my adulthood I
considered my mother the enemy. When she got engaged to my father she was the
age my daughter is now – 15 years old. She married my father when she was 17
and two years later I was born.
There are lots of memories of her in my
early years and I honestly believe there are some good ones – I just can’t
remember any of them. What I can remember is a distinct feeling of being a
burden. Being too stubborn, too inquisitive, too much like a tomboy, too smart,
not girly enough, not presentable, not obedient enough, too independent, too
much like my father. I remember her telling me that she hates it when I want to
know everything *exactly*. I remember her condescending remarks on my straight
A’s in school because “I know you’re smarter than me, you don’t have to rub it
in”. I remember her disapproval when I was pregnant with my second child,
because one would have been enough. I remember her always taking my father’s
side, never mine or my sister’s.
Most of all I remember feeling like being
too good and not good enough at the same time. I just could not get it right.
No matter what I did, my mother could not be pleased.
Yet she is my Wednesday’s Woman. She has to
be.
I hardly talked to my mother for years. I
moved on to live my life, a life that I chose and that was free of judgement
and disappointment. I even moved to Canada – kids and husband in tow – without
saying goodbye to my mother. I left and never looked back; there was just no
other way.
A while after we moved to Canada my mother
called me and we started to talk.
After almost 40 years I met a woman who was
interested in me and who was relieved to hear that I was happy. I met a woman
who was hoping to find her own identity by getting to know her daughter,
because she was never allowed to live a life that she would have chosen. I met
a woman who was bitter that I could not trust her. I met a woman who was a
victim of a tyrannical husband.
I met a woman who tried to protect herself and
her children by pushing them away. I met a woman who admired me and was jealous
of my independence. I met a woman who was a survivor and asking for a second
chance.
Most of all, I met my mother.
She is my Wednesday’s Woman and I dedicate
this post to her because she deserves this chance.
Wednesday's Woman is a weekly feature dedicated to spotlighting women who are role models for our daughters. . . and the world.
Wednesday's Woman is a weekly feature dedicated to spotlighting women who are role models for our daughters. . . and the world.
