Hello Gatherers,
I am delighted to be here for Gather's April Ask The Author event to speak about my latest book, You're Wearing THAT? Mothers and Daughters in Conversation. I would like to start the conversation by answering a few of the questions posed to me over the last few weeks, and then address additional questions today as you post them in the comments field below.
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I noticed that quite a few of the questions I have already received are about dealing with teenage daughters. This is understandable, because the teen years are tough, and I will gladly answer these questions. I'd like to point out, however, that "You're Wearing THAT?" is mostly about adult daughters and their mothers. In fact, many women told me that they assumed that when their daughters were grown, the troubles would be over, so they are doubly frustrated when they're not. I'd especially love to hear from adult daughters frustrated by their mothers as well as mothers frustrated by their adult daughters.
In the meantime, here are answers to some of the great questions I have received so far:
1) A few weeks ago, my fifteen-year-old daughter was dressing to go to the Winterfest dance. She asked me which of two outfits she should wear. I suggested one, and said that it made her look "slender and beautiful". (She's both of those things--whip-slim and drop-dead gorgeous, and I've told her so often).Her response? "You think I'm fat!" And she didn't wear the outfit I suggested.
My question--does she really believe I think she's fat? I can think of nothing--other than the occasional "eat your vegetables" that could even be construed as a comment on her figure. In retrospect, maybe "emphasizes your slender figure" would have been better--but who knew?
A tangential question--I perceive myself as close to my daughters, but not terribly close to my mother. I noticed someone else said something much the same. This led me to think--do mothers perceive the relationship differently than daughters do?
Also, I forget who it was who said that years ago, children were seen as labor, hands for the farm; but these days they're viewed as luxury items, commodities in a marketplace of pleasure. Do you agree with this view, and if so, what differences has this made in the mother-daughter relationship? In fact, has the mother-daughter relationship changed over time?
~ Teresa H.
ANSWER TO FIRST PART: When a woman or girl is worried that she weighs too much (or her hair or clothes aren't perfect) then any comment can seem to hint at criticism. Often when someone does want to tell you that you weigh too much, she will try to be "gentle" by complimenting you when something hides your problem! So saying something makes you look slender really could be a way of saying you aren't! I think the best thing is not to comment on your daughter's weight, period. If she asks you which dress looks better, either answer simply "This one" or "They both look great" or put it back on her: "Which one do you like?" (As one woman commented, sometimes even when she asks your advice, she doesn't want it; she wants your blessing.)
Secondly, yes, daughters and mothers tend to perceive the relationship differently, with the mother focusing on caring and trying to help, and the daughter focusing on whether or not her mother approves of her. Since caring and criticizing are often in the same words (any offer of help implies criticism), the chances for different interpretations are great.
Third, mothers and daughters are much more likely now to think of each other as "best friends," meaning they confide in each other and talk often. This is very satisfying -- who else knows you better or cares more about you?-- but it also is risky because you're still motherand daughter. So if a confidence worries you, it's hard to hide that and no one wants to upset the person they care so much about. Again, the wish for approval can run up against the desire to offer advice.
2) Thank you Deborah for the insights and useful analyses of the mother-daughter relationship. I can certainly relate to it in assessing my relationship with my daughter who is now 32. Even at a young age, she had become extremely capable of taking care of herself. My having been a working mother was probably a big factor in developing her early independence, but it also created a communication gap during those times as she was growing up when she might have needed someone instantly available to talk to. Although we went through a great deal of miscommunication during her adolescent years, I am happy to observe that as she grew older and experienced the conflicting demands of family and work, she acquired a greater understanding of what I went through. We now have become great pals. This is a further re-affirmation of my belief that all our experiences, good and bad, are building blocks to the development of character and better relationship with others. Keep up with your good writing! ~ Grace B.
Answer:You're absolutely right, that the pushes and pulls of finding the right balance of closeness and distance, sameness and difference, are present in all relationships, though perhaps in a more intense form in mother/daughter relationships. Many women tell me that one of the most rewarding aspects of You're Wearing THAT? is seeing themselves in the examples and realizing that they're not alone, nor is their relationship with their mothers or their daughters fatally flawed--and neither are they!
3) I really enjoyed this (in response to the chapter 1 excerpt of the book). My adult (22) daughter and I do this dance on a daily basis. We are very close, and I think that makes the misinterpretations all the more difficult when they occur. My own mother and I did not have a close relationship. When I was 3 my dad died suddenly and she became emotionally frozen. I hated her for years for withholding her love and emotional support, until I grew up- especially when I became a mother- and began to understand the difficulties of being a parent. Eventually you realize that people do the best they can, even if that is sadly inadequate. If you don't forgive them, you can never see or accept your own failings and learn how to heal them. As a grandmother, my mom was able to shower my daughter with all the love and attention that was missing for me, and I found this healing. Now that my mother is 91, frail and failing, I feel great tenderness for her. She can still surprise and hurt though. Recently I showed her a piece of art I had done that was humorous- everyone else loved it- and her comment was "That's horrible!" She didn't see the humor, only what she considered a breach of her sense of decorum. That's the sort of thing that used to rankle and cause major arguments. Now I can view it simply as the eccentricity of a very old lady. It is who she is, and I'm fine with who I am, and I know that she loves me in spite of maybe not LIKING everything I do. I think that's an important distinction for daughters and mothers. We can't expect each other always to like what we do, but the love is a constant.
~ Liz P.
Answer: Thank you for your lovely comment. Many of us find that when our parents age, we soften in our attitudes toward them. It is terrific that your mother has been close to your daughter. I have heard from women who feel that their mothers are as critical of their daughters as they had been, and they had been of them! I think part of the reason we soften is that we see our mothers as vulnerable--but the truth is, they were vulnerable all along. We all tend to underestimate our own power and overestimate the other's.
I look forward to hearing from you over the next two hours and discussing your experiences with mother and daughter communication.
Best,
Deborah
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Comments: 41
i am very close to my own mom, and am grateful for all her hard work and love. now that i have my *own* (3.5 yr old) daughter, i am just starting to see a glimmer of how hard that must have been for her, to work and raise two kids. luckily, my parents are still happily married.
i agree, that older siblings are put in the positionof mini-mom - often bc the real mom is working, etc. nothing is easy but i hope that we learn and grow with each experience!
i'd like to ask how you suggest we grow relationships with our young daughters. obviously, i have a great role model in my own relationship with my mom. lucky me! but any suggestions would be appreciated. thanks!
How did you go about gathering the examples you site in your book?
How did you deal with the issue of privacy?
And did you get any negative feedback from the way you presented these personal examples?
First of all, I'm delighted to hear that your relationship with your mom was and is excellent. That is a firm foundation for your relationship with your own daughter. I want to emphasize, though, that many women pick and choose: they try to replicate what they treasured in how their mothers raised them, but make a point of avoiding what they disliked or have concluded was not productive.
Let me say too that a mother need not work, to put an older sister in the position of mini-mom. My mother did this with my oldest sister, although she did not work outside the home.
From Lisa H:
Deborah, I had to laugh when I read the chapter in You're Wearing THAT? about mothers (and daughters) criticizing each others' hair. A few years ago my husband wanted me to darken my hair which I had always worn blond. I did and my mother hated it. She refrained from telling me outright but it was clear from her body language and unenthused response to my "what do you think?" question. When I saw her two months later and was back to blond she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh good, your hair is blond again!" What's funny is that my husband was upset I went back to blond, but I honestly felt that my mother's opinion was probably more truthful and a reflection of how most women felt about my change. Have you found that a lot of women feel their mothers' opinions outweigh their husbands' when it comes to appearance and do you think that can become a problem in a marriage?
Lisa H: Thanks you for the priceless anecdote; yes, many women tell me that their mothers' opinions carry more weight than anyone else's--and this is something I write about at length in You're Wearing THAT? It's particularly ironic because mothers often repeat their advice because they think what they say doesn't count enough--when in fact daughters sometimes refrain from asking their mothers' opinion because it matters too much. I haven't encountered examples of this becoming a problem, but I can imagine it might. In the case of hair, however--as well as clothes and weight--it often is, as you say, other women's judgment that women are most attuned to, and that's another reason that a mother's perspective is given more weight.
For instance, my youngest sister (child 11) is in the process of becoming a Lutheran. We were raised Catholic. She still hasn't told Mom, and had a big fallout with our sister (child 10) about religion and Mom.
I'm an atheist. Mom knows, and while she'd prefer I was Catholic. The point is, I don't recall any strum and drang over it, and don't even remember how or when she learned about it, and I don't recall worrying over how Mom would deal with it.
My question--in huge families, are there differences in how older and younger daughters interact with their mothers, or are these mostly issues of differing personalities?
How did you go about gathering the examples you site in your book?
The examples come from a range of sources: I "interviewed" several dozen women of varied ethnic and regional backgrounds. I put "interview" in quotes because I didn't ask a set list of questions but just talked to them about their mothers or daughters and taped the conversation. In many cases I exchanged emails with women I knew. Many examples came from casual conversations with people I knew or people I met casually. And some (I identify them) are my own experiences with my mother.
How did you deal with the issue of privacy?
And did you get any negative feedback from the way you presented these personal examples?
I can answer these two together: I know this is unusual for an author, but I show my use of every single example to the person I got it from, and ask: "Did I get it right? Is there anything you would like me to change? Would you rather I identify you by name or by pseudonym? Would you like to be included in the acknowledgments?" This is time-consuming, but it is a lot less so since email! No book rises or falls on a single example, so even if someone asks me not to use her experience at all, that's fine. Sometimes I change details, if they think the real ones will be recognizable.
This way I make sure everyone feels comfortable with the way I present them. And I value the accuracy-check: it is amazing how a small nuance that I recreated inaccurately can change the import of an example.
Beryl Singleton Bissell, Apr 17, 2006
From Beryl: "My heart ached as I read this. Both my mother and my 24-year-old daughter have died. My mother in 1990 of stroke, my daughter was murdered. I would have loved to have had this book 20 odd years ago because just knowing about metamessages could have helped so tremendously in what I heard them say to me, and what I would have said to them. I remember telling my mother, when she criticized me for allowing my 10-year-old daughter to have a snack. We were at my sister's home at the time, and as my sister was working late supper was delayed. My mother had lived with my sister for a while and knew how possessive and controlling she was of everything in the refrigerator...not that she was stingy but because she had "plans." Remembering how my mother had lived with the "what will others think?" mentality, I blamed her for raising me to be a "people pleaser" and did not want my daughter to grow up trying to please others rather than being an authentic person. I shot back at her "I would NEVER raise a child like you raised me!" When my mother was dying I had a chance to apologize. Although she was in an out of consciousness I thanked her for being such a loving good mother and she sobbed "I tried so hard, I tried so hard." I weep every time I think of those words. And my daughter ... the most hurtful words I ever said to her were "Wear long pants so your teacher won't see the bruises on your legs. They might take you away from me if you do." She was eight years old. My ex husband had beaten her with a stick. He had sent me from the house, telling me he knew how it hurt me when he punished the children, and he needed to "talk" with Fran. When I returned my son ran sobbing down the stairs to tell me how he had beaten Fran. I ran screaming at my husband who was outside the house and accused him of child abuse but I didn't call the police. Instead I laid the burden on my daughter."
Answer: This account was heartbreaking to read, as I am sure it was to write. Losing a child is surely one of the most difficult things a person can endure, and when the cause is murder, it must be even more devastating. I want to start my response by saying how sorry I am that you have had to go through this tragic experience--and I am sure it is one you live with every day. Likewise, the guilt associated with child abuse is also one that goes terribly deep.
Deborah's response for Beryl: Many of the experiences you mention are reminiscent of what I heard from many others. Along with what I call the big three of criticism -- hair, clothes, and weight -- is a big 4th: how you raise your kids. So when your mother criticized you for giving your daughter a snack, she wasn't only trying to keep control of food (which I'm sure she was), but she was also tell you that you weren't a good mother--which certainly might account for the matching accusation you hurled at her. If we were all held responsible for what we said when we're hurt (read: when we're angry), none of us would look very good. Of course it is a good goal to hold back, but it's a goal we won't always achieve. I see from your message that you have thought all this through and have come to understanding. I am glad the concept of metamessage is helpful to articulate what you no doubt were already aware of.
Now isn't that what a good mother/daughter relationship is all about at it's core? Communicating, listening, forgiveness.
Thanks for your insights today.
You hit a key point: the constantly moving line between being a parent and being a friend. In the past, parents didn't try to be friends, so the line was clear. Now that mothers and daughters are often (like) friends, the relationship is potentially more rewarding, but also more fraught. When a daughter is a teen and still living at home, it is essential that a mother hold the line and assert authority when behavior are downrgiht dangerous or inappropriate; sometimes a mother has to say, "You don't have to like me but you have to respect me; you can't speak to me that way." But when a daughter is an adult, living on her own, it is less possible--and less desirable--for a mother to lay down the law. She may have to bite her tongue when she disapproves of something (though daughters usually can sense disapproval in the blink of an eye). I say this because the biggest complaint I heard from grown daughters was "My mother is critical" while mother complained, "I can't open my mouth. She takes everything as criticism." Advice and offers of help really do imply criticism, and this will be much harder to hear from a mother than from a friend becasue the daughter so wants her mother's approval.
Here's another example: a mother called her grown daughter and began, "I miss you." Her daughter replied, "Why do you miss me? I spoke to you a week ago." From a friend it would have been an expression of affection but from her mother it sounded like criticism: she should have called!
You have put your finger on a challenge that often occurs between a mother and an adult daughter, and it is another instance of how being "friends" is not completely possible. In this instance, you may need to tell your mother how this kind of talk makes you feel, making sure that it doesn't come across as criticism of her. Start by assuring her that you understand why she wants to confide in you, and you appreciate her confidence, but...
Other examples of this kind of conflict include divorced mothers who want to tell their daughters about their love life, or widowed mothers who are lonely and want to spend more time with their daughters than their daughters feel they can spare--or who just want to talk about their loneliness, which can upset the daughter if she feels that she should be solving her mother's problem by spending more time with her.
These are all natural and unavoidable tensions between the friend relationshp and the mother/daughter one.
While the critical aspects of our relationships have never seemed to fuel from either of our relationships with my dad, I often find myself angered by how the mainstrema media seems to pit daughters and mothers against each other in a fiight for the attention of the father/husband. Do you agree that this motif exists in popular culture and especially in reality TV programs that feature families or in formulaic prime-time sitcoms?
I feel like I'm always seeing mothers and daughters somewhat bizarly at each other's throats over the position of "daddy's little girl" irregardless of their close relationship when dad's out of the picture. Is this just the mainstream media's version of Freud, or what?
Another comment Deborah received over the weekend (and answered via email earlier today. Please see below) was from Wilhelmine E. who shared with us: "My mother died 19 years ago. And I'm still arguing, justifying, rationalizing, defending my point of view...to a ghost."
From Deborah: Among the most passionate responses I got were from women who had lost their mothers. If a mother is lost when a woman is young, there is always a feeling of having been cheated. If a mother is lost at an age that seems appropriate, not before her time, then women still miss her, and are trying to work out how their relationship was, and the lasting effects. Women often say "I sound just like my mother," meaning they hear themselves say things they didn't like when their mother said them. But after a mother is gone, eharing her voice come out of your mouth, or noticing that you do something as she did (even something small--as one woman said, wipe down the sink or cut an onion) can be comforting because it means she's still with you. In any case, a mother's opinion can feel like a life sentence, which means it lasts as long as your own life lasts. You're not arguing with a ghost, but with your mother's voice in your memory. You're not alone. Only this time you can get the last word!
Thank you so much for your kind words. I never thought of it that way, but You are right to emphasize how unavoidable it is that what we hear and what someone else said is rarely precisely the same, because there is always unstated meaning to be filled in. It was humbling to learn how often my recollection of a conversation someone recounted to me was a little bit off. This is a good lesson for all of us who are inclined to be skeptical of someone who protests, "I didn't say that!"
As some of you know, my memoir The Scent of God was published by Counterpoint this April. While writing the book, the pain in some of my mother and my interactions came to light in a way that I had never perceived them before. Who was this mother who emerged in the writing of the book. Was this really my mother? But as I worked through the interactions in writing, I think my real mother began to emerge, the one who was wondrously human and who did the best she knew how to love us.
When you were writing your book, Deborah, did you find that in relating personal experiences you also found similar enlightenment?
No matter how many children there are, each one's relationship with the mother is unique, as a result of many influences: the child's temperament, the place in the sibling constellation, the mother's and family's situation when the child was born (financial, psychological, geographic differences), and so on. As you note, older siblings often have many elements of parents, as they are more knowledgeable, more competent, and often closer to the parents. Parents treat children differenlty, partly because of how they change but also because of how the children treat them! It's possible your mother would react differently to your sister's becoming Lutheran than she did to you becoming atheist, and it is possible that your sister's concern is unnecessary. But to answer your question, differences between how oldest and youngeset siblings relate to parents is a combination of all these factors and of course individual personality.
It seems like my mom's relationship with my sister has changed significantly since my sister had her first child. My sister is, I think, grateful like never before to have mom involved in her life. Mom seems to have a new purpose (and endless energy to go with it).
My question is this: How do mother-daughter relationships change with the introduction of grandkids into the mix? Does having a granddaughter affect things differently from a grandson?
Josef S: I recently took our 18yr old daughter for her prom dress. After we had paid and were exiting the mall, she stopped me and gave me a big hug. I then commented that I hoped her mother would like it. She angrily replied "who cares if she likes it or not!" In an instant her mood changed and we uneasily made our way to my car. I tried to explain that I meant I hoped she thought it was pretty, not that we needed her approval. But it was too late; the meta meanings were out there. I guess that while I still tend to seek her mother's approval when it comes to the children's upbringing (we're divorced for 10 yrs now), Beth seems to be seeking independence from her moms influence. My problem is how do I walk that line of not outwardly expressing my subconscious need for her mom to approve of the things Beth and I do together, without setting either one of them off?
Answer from Deborah (via email today):
It sounds like your daughter wanted to focus on her time with you. As much as possible, try to keep your conversation focused on your daughter and yourself. Your wish that her mother approve might best be handled between you and your former wife. It's always tricky when there are three people involved -- and a divorce complicates things further. So as much as possible, keep the focus on the two who are present.
On a side-note, I used your book, You Just Don't Understand, in an introductory language study course llast semester. The discussion it sparked was lively--and in the class evals, my students to a man (or woman) declared it the most helpful aspect of the course. (Such a surprise--I'd have thought it would have been my scintillating lecture on transformational grammar--)
Your comment made me smile. Many men tell me that reading the book helps them understand what previously baffled them in watching their siters and mother/ wife and her mother/ wife and their daughters.
When a daughter has children of her own, the relationship can get better or worse. Better in the ways you describe have happily happened with your sister: A mother's advice and help are now needed and valued, whereas previously daughters may resent offers of help as implying they're incompetent, and mothers find themselves hamstrung when trying to do what they see as their job: being helpful and protective. Also, daughter and mothers now share a passion for something outside themselves. In other cases, new tensions may arise. If her mother has different ideas about childrearing (and ideas about childrearing change constantly) a woman may feel that her mother is criticizing her parenting--and this hurts deeply because all women worry about being good mothers. Sometimes women are critical of their grandchildren's appearance ("She'd be so pretty if she combed her hair") and this can bring back the daughter's memories of her mother being critical of her.
Ah, yes. How right you are. I have written a book, "The Argument Culture," about our tendency to approach everything as a fight, and that book includes two chapters on the media. Journalists and producers worry about losing audiences, and many feel that fights are fun to watch, so makign it into "the war of..." will get more attention.
At the same time, it is true that many families include, in addition to many other dynamics, a dynamic by which a father and daughter may align with each other in a way that excludes the mother. And this is especially painful to women, for whom being excluded is the worst punishment (remember the little girl who threatens, "You can't come to my birthday!") But it should be possible to acknowledge -- and correct for -- this danger, without turning it into a battle royal, or the overwhelming family story!
serendipity - you're on the back page of bookwomen this week, in the quotes part. i laughed when i saw it - i love it when these things happen.
yes, i'll pick and choose, for my relationship with lillie. thank you again!
Thank you for asking about how writing this book affected my relationship with my own mother, and also for sharing how writing your own memoir affected yours.
Perhaps the effect in my case was less dramatic, because the book is not mostly a memoir, but I did use numerous personal examples, and yes--when I put an example in, I could not stop at my own interpretation/reaction, as I always had done in the past. I had to go on to ask, "What was her point of view? Why would she have said this?" And that helped me see things from her point of view--which, in the end, is the biggest goal of this book: helping each see interactions from the other's point of view.
In addition, because I'm a daughter but not a mother, I had to work harder to present mothers' perspectives throughout, much as I had to work to present men's perspectives when I wrote "You Just Don't Understand." This, too, gave me more sympathy for my mother, and more appreciation of the enormity of what we expect of mothers, the difficulty of fulfililng all those expectations, and the reason why she seemed so intrusive--the desire of women to avoid feeling left out.
Thank you for this discussion. I am enjoying all the posts, also.
What about the dynamics of a daughter reared by her aunt instead of her mother?
Unfortunately, this was my situation with extreme jealousy on the part of my aunt. Bad words from my aunt, only love from my mother.
From Deborah: I began with material I had published in academic journals, but every one begins with an area of expertise. My first step was to get an article published in a magazine. Some early submissions were rejected, and one was accepted (imagine my excitement) but never published. Then I sent an academic article on New York conversational style to all the NY publications I could think of, and asked if they wanted a more conversational rewrite of the topic. New York Magazine said yes, I wrote the piece, and they published it. Then I got a request from Vogue magazine to do the same for women and men, which I did. With these articles as proof I could write for a general audience, I got an agent, and the agent got the publisher. So my advice is always to start with magazine or newspaper articles, and use those to find an agent. And good luck!
Thanks so much for your comment--and for assigning "You Just Don't Understand" in your classes. I have often seen my mission in life as communicating that the field of linguistics also has much to teach us about relationships. Psychologists have been more successful at communicating beyond the academy.
I didn't look specifically at the many other possible family constellations: children raised by other relatives or partially by step-parents. Nor did I look at adoptive parents (though some examples come from adopted daughters), or in-laws. I would think that the dynamics would depend, as always, on the particular personalities and circumstances involved, but that there would also be aspects particular to this constellation, such as competition between the person on-site and the distant one.
Deborah