Having A Daughter... It's Complicated

I never could have imagined having my own daughter until I found out I was pregnant with her.  I can't tell you how many times I told people that I "was never meant to have a daughter."  But why is that?  Why would my mind have put a mental block around the idea of raising a daughter?

I suppose the easiest thing to factor is my relationship with my own mother.  I love her dearly and she's incredibly important in my life.  She's one of my biggest influences.  With that said, I'm solidly in the "Daddy's Girl" category - my dad and I talk almost everyday, despite the fact that I'm in California and they're in Florida.  We can talk for hours, and we talk about anything - politics, groceries, television shows... we don't even agree on that stuff, but we have a natural "rhythm" with each other that makes our communication flow without any effort.

With mom, it's different.  It always has been.

She and I can talk for a few minutes at time, but then the phone swiftly gets handed back to dad.  We make sure that the other is doing okay, that we're happy... and that's about it.  Mom and I just never really developed that rapport that I hear my friends talk about with their moms.

So what happened?

There's a book called The 5 Love Languages that I absolutely adore.  This book opened my eyes to root of what might have limited the development of a close relationship with my mom (and no, this isn't a sponsored post!).  If you aren't familiar with it, the basic idea of this book is that people give and receive love in five very basic ways - Acts of Service, Gifts, Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, and Quality Time.

I fall into the "Acts of Service" and "Gifts" categories... Oddly enough, so does my father.  This means that my dad and I value doing things for, and giving things to, other people.  It's also the way that we most readily accept affection from others.  My mother? She could care less about about presents or me cleaning the kitchen for her when I visit.

Mom is definitely a "Quality Time" and "Physical Touch" kind of lady.  My mother wants her daughters, even now that we're well into adulthood, to sit on her lap, give her kisses on the cheek, and walk with her while she holds our hands... To me, that stuff is annoying.  I don't like hugs - I'm not a touchy person.  I also don't like having my hand held by anyone other than my husband and my kid.  Sorry, mom.

Building a Mother/Daughter Relationship

Now that I'm a mother, it really bothers me that I don't have a well developed relationship with my own mom... I suppose my dad stepped in and filled both roles for me a lot of the time.  As I think about that, and what that means, it makes me sad.

It also means that I want to start strong in my relationship with my own daughter.  Yes, I know that she might end up closer to my husband - I'm okay with that - But I also want her to feel like she can talk with me about her problems, come to me with her successes and worries... I want with her what I have with my dad.

But how can I do that?  What can I do that won't force closeness - just encourage it?  I think it boils down to a few very simple things.

 

Learn how she gives and receives love/affection

While my mother is an amazing mom, we just never developed a meaningful way to communicate.   As my daughter grows into her own person, I need to accept that she, as with me and my mom, likely won't be a carbon-copy of me.  I need to learn how SHE receives and gives affection so that I can provide for her the type of meaningful support she'll need as she navigates through life.

Respect our differences and embrace them

Another place where I think my mother and I went wrong is that we never learned to appreciate the differences between us.  We've accepted that we're very different people and simply avoid the issues that separate us.  With my daughter, I want to embrace our differences and celebrate them.  I probably could learn a great deal from my mother and her approach at life... and I luckily still have the time to bridge that gap.  With my daughter, I don't want to play "catch up" when she's older - I want to learn from her when she's two, ten, twenty, even forty years-old.