Like mother like daughter, not

When parenting brings up childhood trauma

Monday, a fresh start to the week. So, last night, my daughter and I sort of made up. She approached me after I got home from the beach and apologised. I could see she was making an effort to clean up the mess she'd made. But, call me immature or small-minded, I'm still pretty hurt and broken after what happened on Friday.

We're talking and chatting, but something inside me has stirred up old childhood trauma from when I was bullied at school in New Zealand. Because of that experience, I've always been wary of intimate female friendships, thinking women are more likely to backstab each other. Of course, I have really good female friends now whom I fully trust, but deep down, I've always felt that female friendships aren't reliable.

What my daughter did reminded me of that trauma from when I was her age. Luckily, I've got a therapy session tomorrow morning where I can talk about it and maybe get some clarity on how to move forward. I'm considering whether I need to keep my distance for a bit longer—not in a cold or harsh way—but just to protect myself while I heal. Is that okay?

We've always been told that parents need to be ironclad for their children, but maybe it's time our kids learn that we're human too. We have weaknesses and need to take care of ourselves before we can take care of them. It's confusing, isn't it? Ten years ago, people told me teenagers would be harder than babies, and I thought they were joking because I couldn't even sleep back then. Now with a preteen, I'm bracing myself for what’s yet to come, and it's scaring the hell out of me.

Wish me luck.

Footnotes Image generated by Flux 1.0 on Freepik, prompt: a young asian girl in uniform holding her knees and sitiing on the ground, a little bit sad, 7 layers of aura, plain background, green hues #illustratedpop