In a podcast I learned a deeper understanding of Emotionally Immature Parents.
You can read or listen more at https://momastery.com/blog/we-can-do-hard-things-ep-263/
There are two back to back episodes.
I have lived this - on both sides.
I have had parents who were emotionally immature, and I was a parent who was emotionally immature.
My mother used to say, I was mature beyond my years - and I used to think this was a good thing. What it really meant, was that I had learned to care for others emotions. Not mine - others.
And, I wasn't born an old soul. I was a child - who was put in charge of things way beyond my years.
What this does is, while tending to others - I neglected me.
I lost Me.
I stopped growing and being with my own emotions.
My own emotions were stunted and left unattended - which probably made me an easier target for abuse.
I had to tend to my mother's emotional needs.
What is so odd about this all - is that we don't know we are doing this or that our mother is emotionally immature - yet we feel this dance. The ironclad bond of being attached to our mother's happiness or equilibrium.
I am not even sure I can adequately articulate this.
Yet this is so clear and runs deep into my DNA.
This is a legacy that has crippled my family of origin.
Emotional immaturity has others in control of your emotions.
You are powerless - and need to control others - for they hold the buttons that engage your emotions.
And, they define who you are. You see yourself through them. They have the power to make you a good mom, a good wife, a good friend. Without them - you seem to disappear - for you haven't tended you. The you inside of you is barely there.
I recall the feelings of having no me - as much as I recall stopping to tend to my mother and her emotions.
There was a pivotal moment where my childhood wounds and their emotions - needed me to tend to them - and that my mother and her world had messes so beyond my scope to handle. A one two punch that landed me facing my own immature emotions -as a woman of 46.
There are moments on my journey of growing my emotional intelligence - that stand out so clear - where it was jaw dropping in how much I had neglected and how much I had failed to even be aware of.
As a child, even a grown child - it was earth shattering to see that the woman I had tended to - was so small in inner substance. How terrifying this would have been to see as a child.
There didn't appear to be any adult who was emotionally mature enough to face reality.
And I was her mirror.
Emotional immature people need a reality that sits at their level emotions.
My mother's emotions couldn't handle the weight of the reality of the abuse in her home and in her church.
She still can't.
I don't know what made me different.
I don't know why I was able to see reality.
To see Me not there.
To see her and her denial.
To see how abusive our legacy is.
And I don't know how I had the strength and wherewithal to dare change. To stop tending to her emotions and even more to start tending to mine.
I had to begin with my broken child self - that I had left unattended on so many levels.
A broken me fixing me and disappointing a mother I had tended to for so so many years.
The strains and pulls upon me were tied deeply into generations of women who lived without a self.
What I know to be true, any woman who has a good grasp on themselves and is emotionally matured would never look away from a child who was abused.
Only those who cannot see themselves - cannot see a child.
When I focused on me and growing my self - I broke this legacy on my limb of our family tree.
I know I appear different - and that I appear heartless to no longer be tending to my mother's emotional needs.
In one of the episodes, they speak of feeling like an allergic reaction when in the presence of emotionally immature people. I get it. Something inside of me pushes me away from them.
Perhaps I know, to be with them - I will leave me unattended.
It was good to listen to the description of what I went through way back then.
If my only legacy is emotional maturity - my life mattered and my pain was not for naught.