I absolutely enjoy this very matter-of-fact depiction of the Ten of Pentacles, with the left hand basically saying, "Look, this is the recipe we have inherited for generations. You don't question it, you just follow the proper measurements and proceed." And while we, children of the patriarchy, try to break free from these outdated models, our wildness is quickly extinguished and we are trapped and contained once again.
Not long ago I heard the expression undermothered for the very first time. It’s this concept that a mother’s parenting may have been lacking in some way. Perhaps she wasn’t as present as she could have been or there were situations that could have been handled more gracefully. Or maybe she imposed her values and judgments or projected her own self-limiting beliefs onto her child. Whatever the case may be, in the end the child feels that they did not receive what they needed (and continues to need, if that relationship is still present).
When I felt ready to have children, I started asking myself what kind of mother I wanted to be, and what kind of parenting style I wished to adopt. And I began to question my relationship with my own mother. That quickly escalated into a very dark hole of anger and resentment. A lot of unpleasant memories started to resurface and I felt that my inner child had been abandoned. It’s true that nobody is formally taught how to parent. More often than not, we integrate how our parents raised us and use that as our own model, consciously or not. I don’t think any parent can say with certainty “Yeah, I’m a total pro at this parenting thing.” Under this light, undermothering is unsurprising. But does that make us feel any better?
I’ll also add that I grew up in a culture that continues to be deeply steeped in Confucian ideals. Sometime in the 500’s BCE, this one old Chinese man invented this concept of “filial piety,” whereby children had to obey their parents at all cost and take care of them in their old age. To considering my parents’ opinions, okay (though blindly “obeying,” maybe not quite). To taking care of them in their old age, sure. BUT that whole concept unfortunately too often translated into something like: “I gave birth to you, I sacrificed myself to raise you so that you can become an educated adult, and now you owe me.” And to this we add a little bit of generational difference and a dash of cultural expectations, and voilà a perfect recipe for toxic parenting patterns.
In my opinion, all mothers (and fathers!) tap into the archetype of Cancer, the nurturer par excellence. When Cancer is being too cancerian, aka too much of itself, it will continue to give and give and give even when its own cup is empty. A few steps not far away are feelings of resentment and bitterness that turn into this passive-aggressive self-victimisation and emotional manipulation (i.e. guilting others, especially the children). And I sense that this pattern has been passed down from generation to generation. I’m pretty sure my maternal grandma, although I never met her, felt this way too. And so did her own mother. And I have this genuine fear that I too will become this way.
In addition to that line on his CV, our dude Confucius very much promoted patriarchy and was rather the misogynistic one. I cannot speak to every girl’s experience, but I often received messages of the you-need-to-be-better variety à la Confucius from my mother. A good daughter needs to say this, a good sister needs to do this, a good wife needs to act like this. In other words: You are not enough. And remember kids, you reflect on me. Your good behaviour reflects what a great mother I am. etc. etc. We know how that song goes. And no, this isn’t about narcissism. To me, this speaks to an intergenerational trauma that stems from constantly having to police one another and oneself to “save face.” The fear of the qu’en-dira-t-on (what will they say).
And so I find myself faced with this conundrum: I am not enough —Yes, I can choose to not believe it, but having heard this over and over for years, it’s not always easy to break free— okay. That’s not a pleasant thought, but there is still the sense that I could be enough, that I could do more, that I could become better. On the other hand, if I concede that I was undermothered, then I’m saying, it’s not me, it’s her. It was my mother that wasn’t enough, she didn’t give me what I needed, she wasn’t worthy. Wow, that’s gross.
It’s not easy to be a parent and I won’t pretend that I can do better. My parents in particular emigrated across the Pacific in a post-war context with empty hands and empty pockets. The tools in their toolbox were limited. And seriously, who has time to indulge in personal development when you’re trying to keep a roof over everyone’s head and feed your family? What is this we-are-spiritual-beings nonsense? Clearly, not being able to place myself in my mother’s shoes makes me the unworthy daughter. And here we go again. Unworthiness gets passed around while the meal we’ve been served remains tasteless.
Lately I’ve been sitting with the discomfort of this realisation and I observe. Sometimes I even manage to not be so attached. And I also notice these patterns being repeated elsewhere. Men also harbour intense feelings of unworthiness that they in turn shove to their partners, siblings, children.. How can we begin to recognize that we are whole spiritual beings choosing an imperfect human experience in order to perfect our soul? i.e. Can we just chuck the unworthiness already?
🌑 ♏
Featured decks:
Tarot del Fuego (Ricardo Cavolo)
Outgrow Yourself Oracle Tarot (Äkta Spåman)