My Daughter My Teacher
by Elouise
‘My daughter my teacher’
The phrase arrives unbidden
Turning it over I find
What was denied
What was forbidden
What was scorned
Though I searched for it with all my heart
What does it mean
To grow up female
Loved
Free of being shamed
Free of control and contempt
That sucks joy and creativity
Out of airways
Leaving a void gasping
Not outgrown or filled
Without pain
And the horror of knowing
It didn’t have to be like this
And it was
Our daughter has been a free, creative spirit from the beginning. I can’t count how many times I’ve said, “I don’t know how this happened.”
How could it be that this painfully shame-driven introverted woman mothered this free introverted spirit who follows her heart no matter what others think?
From the beginning, without shame, she wrote what she heard, saw and felt. She still composes and performs music that come from places I’ve never been—literally, or in my heart.
The truth is simple. I never gave her any of that. That was and is her gift. Her voice. Her creativity. Her vision. Her truth.
And yet, I did give her something. I gave her some of what I was never given. I think it came from my fierce determination to make space for her to be herself and our daughter. All at the same time.
This makes my heart happy and brings a smile to my face. It helps me see some of what I missed growing up. It also gives me a different mirror to consult. The mirror of my mothering. Even though I felt like a bumbling pseudo-mother from time to time.
Thanks for listening!
Elouise♥
©Elouise Renich Fraser, 17 August 2018
Photo found at katiedissertation.weebly.com
Telling the Truth 
A bumbling pseudo mother??? I hardly think so, Elouise! The idea that we have to present to our children some Mother Earth type archetype of nurturing perfection is…sometimes… what? Another way to beat ourselves up, I suspect.
Some of our best lessons come from being neglected, from being let alone to discover that we can stand straight by ourselves.
Love you!
Fran xxx
LikeLiked by 2 people
I wasn’t neglected when it came to being hovered over, monitored and given surrogate mother duties to my younger sisters. However, I didn’t have encouragement, time or space for any self-discovery. It’s difficult to describe the agony of being under surveillance 24/7. What was neglected was my own exploration of who I was and what I wanted to be and become–outside the approved-upon rules set by my father and his attempts to shame me. Yes, I felt like a bumbling pseudo-mother sometimes–just as my mother felt when she became a mother before she had ever been mothered. I can’t underscore how serious this is. It isn’t beyond remedy. And it’s extremely discomfiting, no matter where it originates.
I agree that we need to be given space to discover who we are, etc. That’s the part I got right with my daughter (but haven’t realized until now), without neglecting to love and reassure her and listen and be available even though I didn’t have a clue how to solve everything and make it all right.
Thanks for your comment–I think! 🙂 XXX000
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you too. No criticism is intended, only reassurance that I know you will have been a wonderful mother, if only because you knew so deeply what pained you about surveillance 24/7.
I come from a different tradition, I’m afraid, rather the opposite. Absent parenting is often just as challenging to spot. But, the good news is, that we can spot the gaps before we fall into them, and take our own steps to act as we prefer to, lovingly, as you doubtless have. 😀 ((xxx))
LikeLiked by 2 people
Sometimes lovingly, other times flying blind without crashing! 😊💜💕
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh yes, and my daughter is my greatest teacher too. 😀 xxx
LikeLiked by 2 people
She’s probably a throw back, to her paternal grandfather. I think I’m a throw back to my maternal grandmother, as my Poppy May is a throw back to her maternal grandpa. The boys go back through the grandmothers and the girls go back through their grandfathers. Well that’s my belief if you can fathom what I’m raving on about.
LikeLiked by 2 people
is she like her paternal grandpa?obviously not her maternal grandpa
LikeLiked by 2 people
See my response to your first comment, to which I’ll add she is not like her maternal grandpa although he was inordinately proud of her and interested in her music! He had a much better relationship with her than with me.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Much like his son???
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh dear! I’m not sure which comment this goes with. My father had only daughters (unlike my paternal grandfather who had 7 sons).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your grandfather didn’t have much time for you, and I suspect that your father was tarred with the same brush
LikeLiked by 2 people
Hi, Brian. I love your raves! And since I’ve seen your next comment, too, here’s a response to where my daughters got her ‘stuff’ from. As you may remember, she’s a musician. She’s also an artist (such as graphic arts, sketches, giclee prints). The musical piece of her is most likely part of my heritage–via her maternal grandmother and me. The artistic genes are also from her paternal grandfather who was an artist (ceramics and watercolor painting).
However, the piece I wrote is also about freedom to be herself, free of the culture of shame in which I was raised. If this all sounds convoluted, it probably is! 🙂 In addition, children bring themselves to the equation–no matter what the parents or grandparents were like.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would hope that they do, but I fear that it not always happens
LikeLiked by 2 people
Your precious granddaughters are still young. From what I’ve seen and read about them, I’d say they have at least a fighting chance of surviving childhood on their own terms! It’s also true, however, that while they’re young, their parents have much more control, especially over where they live. 😦 I bet you miss them every day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do indeed, more so now, they came to stay for a few days a fortnight ago and parting wasn’t sweet sorrow
LikeLiked by 2 people
her gene pool is half yours and that’s saying it all, with a steady hand and wisdom to set her free to be herself, the gift was given and you are a rock star Mom I’m sure ❤
LikeLiked by 2 people
Aww…thanks Kim. In some ways I’m relieved to have that part of my life done. In other ways, there are pieces I’d love to do better. Which is probably what every rock star thinks about a lot of her or his performances! So I guess I’m sort of agreeing–to the rock star Mom part! 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people