“That's just the way she is.”

Many of the women who come to see me in their twenties and early thirties describe their mother this way, almost matter-of-factly. An authoritative figure. Someone who had an opinion on everything, and usually the final word.

They love her. Often, they feel a strong attachment to her. And yet, when we talk a little longer, another truth comes out: they don't really enjoy being around her. After a visit, a long phone call, or a weekend together, they feel drained. Low. Smaller than they were before.

If you recognize yourself here, you may be carrying something that is hard to name, because it never looked like anything “bad.” It looked like care. It looked like a mother who simply knew better.

Who these mothers often are

To understand the daughter, it helps to look gently at the mother. Very often, she is not a very happy woman herself. She may have lived with a lot of anxiety, a negative outlook, or a scarcity mindset: the feeling that there is never quite enough money, safety or certainty.

For many of these mothers, life is a scary place. The world is not to be trusted. People are not to be trusted. And so, out of her own fear, she tries to teach her daughter what she knows and what she believes, often the same lessons she learned in her own childhood.

This doesn't excuse the impact. But it helps explain it. Control is often fear wearing the clothes of love.

When she always knew better

A controlling mother doesn't always shout or forbid. Sometimes the control is open criticism. Sometimes it is quieter: a sigh, a look, a worried question that leaves no real room to disagree. Either way, the message is the same. I know better than you.

She may have believed she knew better about almost every part of your life:

  • What you should study
  • Which man you should marry
  • Which country you should live in
  • Which apartment you should move into
  • How much money you should spend, and how much you should save

Over time, your options narrowed. Your own preferences got quieter. And your choices started to feel less like yours and more like tests you might fail.

The part of you that learned to stay small

As adults, these women often notice that:

  • They doubt their own decisions, even small ones, and look to others to decide
  • They feel drained, low or anxious after time with their mother
  • They feel guilty when they disagree with her, or when they choose differently
  • They hear her voice in their own inner critic
  • They feel more like a daughter than a grown woman in her presence

In my work, I often meet a part of the daughter that is quite dependent, sometimes codependent. It isn't a weakness. It's a protector. This part shields her from the vulnerability of making mistakes, of choosing wrong for herself, of being criticized once again.

So she learned to stay small. To see herself as small. And to let other people take control of her life. Because, growing up, that was the way to be safe, and the way to be loved.

How healing happens

In our work together, we go step by step:

  1. We understand what happened. Your story, your mother's story, and how the two shaped each other.
  2. We approach it with compassion. For the girl you were, and, when you're ready, for the woman your mother is.
  3. We separate your identity from hers. Her fears, her beliefs and her choices are hers. You get to discover your own.
  4. We learn to care without being enmeshed. You can love your mother and still have your own life, your own opinions and your own boundaries.
  5. We grow self-confidence, self-esteem and self-trust, the foundations you need to fully be an adult woman today.
  6. We make space for every feeling. Grief, sadness, anger, or whatever is present about the circumstances of your life. All of it is welcome.

And slowly, you regain control of what is yours to control: your choices, your relationships, your life.

Becoming the woman you are

You were never too much, or not enough. You were a girl who adapted to keep the peace and keep the love. Now, as an adult, you get to learn something new: that your choices can be yours, that mistakes are survivable, and that you can trust yourself.