The Freedom of Not Missing My Mother

I don’t miss my mother.

Not in the way I used to think I should.
Not in the way people tell you you’re supposed to.
Not even in the way that feels socially acceptable to admit.

I used to spiral around this.
What kind of person doesn’t miss their mum?
What does that say about me?
Am I cold? Broken? Unloving?

But now… I just feel free.

Life is so much better without her in it.

She was — and still is — emotionally exhausting.
I would say things like, “I’m tired, I don’t have the energy for a lot of talking,” and she would just bulldoze through that boundary. Push and push and push until she got her needs met — regardless of what I’d clearly expressed.

And it wasn’t a one-off. It was the pattern.
Every time.

It took me years to realise it, but I was never seen as a separate emotional being in that relationship. I was a container. A mirror. A service animal for her dysregulation.

And when I finally stepped away from that role, I found something unexpected:
Peace.

I’m not angry anymore.
I’m not grieving the mother I wish I had.
I’m just… done.

There’s a caveat, of course.
Victor recently said he wanted to see her dog — and yeah, that complicates things a little. I told him we could visit briefly if he keeps asking, but I’d never leave him alone with her again. Not after what I’ve lived through. Not now that I know better.

And even that — the clarity that I can hold a boundary for him while still offering him some access — is a sign of how far I’ve come.

The truth is, I don’t feel emotionally charged around this anymore.
I just feel clean.
And in that clarity, I’ve realised something that used to terrify me:

I’d be perfectly content to never speak to her again.
Not out of hatred — but out of self-respect.

Some people say you only get one mother.
But I’ve come to believe that you get many chances in life to be mothered — by the right people, in the right ways, at the right time.

And sometimes, the first act of real mothering is to say:

“No more. I deserve peace.”

It’s not anger anymore. It’s not grief.
It’s just space.
And in that space, I’ve found freedom.

---