A Meddling Mom Grows Up

It took the excruciatingly painful estrangement in my relationship with my adult daughter to realize I'd been masquerading meddling as concern. The first time I recognized it as meddling was when I witnessed a woman advising her adult married son. "That's meddling!" I declared to my inner self, feeling somewhat smug that I didn't meddle in the lives of my adult children. 

My fall from grace began with the marriage of our son and the realization that much of his life a thousand miles from our home would have little to do with me. Mourning the change in our relationship led a dear friend to share a September 27, 2021 article on the Ramsey Solutions website about mother-son separation. It quoted parenting expert and pediatrician, Meg Meeker, M.D.  

"Why is the mother-son separation so important? The reason it's really important is that you have to break from your son and let him know he doesn't need you. That's very hard for mothers to do, because our whole lives are spent wanting to believe our kids need us. But that's the worst thing you can do for a son. A man who feels that his mother needs him (and he needs her) is a man who will have a difficult time cleaving to his wife and enjoying a good marriage relationship. And a mom should never get between her son and his wife." 

Although that was a tough pill to swallow, I wanted no part in making it difficult for my son and daughter-in-law to enjoy a good marriage.

While I struggled with my new identity in relationship to my son, our adult daughter was pulling away from the very close relationship I had nurtured with her since she was a child. She uncharacteristically turned down my invitations to go to lunch, on shopping trips or to visit relatives, things I thought we had both enjoyed together. Now she rarely called me on the phone just to chat. 

At first I felt confused, then unappreciated and mistreated. There were many failed attempts to get her to be the person she had been before she began pulling away. I spent considerable time wallowing in self-pity before I recognized that was an exercise in futility. Why didn't I just talk to her about it? 

Have I mentioned that I have made stuffing feelings a fine art? I hoped the problem would just resolve itself. Other talks I'd had with my daughter (that I know now were meddlesome on my part) had not gone well. When I talked to a wise friend about it, she suggested I focus on my behavior, rather than that of my daughter. 

One day while searching the Next Avenue website, I saw a reference to the book, "Reluctantly Related Revisited" by Deanna Brann, Ph.D. While not looking for it, I came across a chapter called, "Daughters Who Don't Grow up." That chapter had a lot of me in it. 

I eventually saw that behind my well-meaning desire to be more a part of my daughter's life than my mother had been with me, I'd also been grooming her to be my BFF.

Brann writes that in a too-close relationship, which thwarts the growing up process, "mothers of daughters need to find other areas where they can get these needs met."

Or better yet, they need to find a sense of identity that better fits where they are at this point in their lives. "Their role as mother — as the caretaker and nurturer — needs to change as their daughters mature and grow into the women they were meant to be," according to Brann.

That meant I had to get a life. I started a writers' group at the library, joined an older adults' fitness class, pursued lunch dates with other women and started a blog. I had to do these things not so that my daughter returned to me, but because I decided to have a good life, no matter what.

During what I initially thought was an unhealthy pulling away, I watched my daughter choose a different career path, without my consultation. I've watched her date and become engaged to a wonderful man, without my consultation. Brann states that "pulling away from a too-close relationship with your mother allows for other relationships to form and flourish."

Brann also writes that if the mother doesn't initiate this pulling away, the daughter should. As hard as I thought it was for me, maybe it was hard for her, too? 

Fast forward 3 years, and my daughter now invites me to walk with her most every week. No matter where our walk takes us, we strive to keep pace with each other. I now try to serve as a sounding board for my daughter. Advice is not given, unless requested.

As Greek philosopher Epictetus is quoted, "We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak." And so we walk side-by-side, two women sharing their worlds, just like the grownups we are.

Eileen Nimm is a retired newspaper reporter and associate editor. She and her husband have three adult children and a tortie, Holly Carol. Read More