Being a mother, a survivor and a woman - Part 32 - Understanding my suicidal thoughts and healing my “Mother Wounds”

For the last few weeks, I struggled with suicidal thoughts. On two instances I nearly acted on these thoughts. It is really distressing as you can imagine…

Yesterday, I had the courage to bring them to my chanting altar. It was scary but I really wanted to understand myself better.

I first realised that it is the small child in me who suffers that much that she doesn’t want to live anymore. I heard her say: ” Where is the point of me if Mummy doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me?”

A few weeks ago, I read an article about the importance of healing our “Mother Wounds” so that came up while I was chanting. I didn’t know yet what it meant for me and my second realisation was to first feel this pain, to accept it in order to understand it.

Later on, I was writing in my journal and things about my Mother Wounds started to come up and to make sense for me. The way I understand it is as follow: starting as this minuscule cell in our Mother’s womb to the time of our growth within and, then, outside of her body„ we feel and experience all that she feels and experiences. We make it our own. it even becomes a part of our identity. For some, it can be mostly be positive, nourishing and loving.Unfortunately, for some of us, it can negative, traumatic and void of love. Unfortunately, I am part of the latest.

When my Mother realised she was pregnant with me, she was about to leave her very unhappy relationship with my Father. She was also deeply traumatised by her past sexual abuse she never dealt with. I became the obstacle to her escape. I heard it many times: “I never wanted you. I nearly lost you, the doctors saved you but I never wanted you” So from the time she knew she was pregnant, she didn’t want me.

She also used to tell me again and again that I was a miserable baby, crying all the time.

I read somewhere that a new born emotionally depends on her/his Mother. S/he needs her love to grow, to flourish and to live. A baby can die emotionally and/or physically from the lack of love.

So, I am not surprised I was a “miserable” ( to use her word ) baby, child and then teenager: She never wanted me. I was looking and looking for that love that wasn’t there so I cried my pain. Later on, I reacted to that pain with negative behaviours that only confirmed her idea that I was difficult and miserable.

Two things happened: she was miserable herself, I felt it from her womb and she projected her misery on me. I made it own, it became part of my identity.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my desire to die formed itself when I was baby. Of course, I couldn’t understand nor express it. Thus the crying and the  screaming. Growing up, I felt it but still couldn’t understand where it came from. I started to act on my desire to die by self harming. At 15, I took an overdose. When asked why I did this, I answered: “Because of my Mum.” I was constantly told I was crazy, difficult and … miserable. I believed them.

When my Step Father cheated on my Mother, twice, she tried to commit suicide on both occasions and nearly left us the last time. For her, it probably was a reminder of her childhood pain. It was another betrayal, another rejection. ” What is the point of me if I keep being hurt, betrayed and rejected? Nobody will ever love me so I’d rather die.” The sad thing was she didn’t know how to receive his love. I saw her projecting her anger, her mistrust on us and on him. She was so damaged there was no love for her to give and to receive.

How do I know all of this? I feel the same way. Her pain became mine, remember!?! I also think my pain is the pain passed down from abused, hurt, lonely and angry Women/Mothers in my family to their children. It created one unhappy and distraught generation after another.

Well, I want to transform this in my heart because I have a life to live and much love to experience with my Daughter as well as with my friends.

Sea and Sun - blue, yellow

Sea and Sun - blue, yellow

Being a mother, a survivor and a woman - Part 31 - My Daughter

My labour lasted 14 hours. I had a beautiful view of Big Ben and the House of Parliement. I had no drugs and was using my breathing to deal with the pain.

I pushed her out in the birthing pool. I will always remember the moment the nurse put her on my chest. She was all clean and pink with really dark hair. She opened her eyes, her big dark eyes and looked straight into mine. I said: ” Hello!! “

Today, she is such a little lady. She is funny, direct, determined, clever and curious. I look at her and I am in awe. I am still surprised that she came out of me. I carried her for nine month. I felt her grow inside of me. I felt her move.

I wrote this before but I want to write it again: she is the one who “pushed” me to heal, to grow and to live a better life, for her but also for myself. Yes, it means I am facing some pretty traumatic things and the pain is so overwhelming, I am asking myself why I am doing this?

Today, we were talking about that crazy time when we had to wake up at 6 am, go to the child minder, and about all this running around. “How did we do that.” I asked. She replied: ” We were homeless too!” Me: ” Yeah, how did we do that??? ” We laughed.  We’ve been through so much together! We were a team and we still are.

She now lives at her Dad’s full time. I need to look after myself. Someone told me the other day: ” Actually, letting her living with her Dad in order to get better is another way of protecting her and of looking after her.” I never thought of this that way before!

I hope I will get much better soon so I can have even more precious moments with her…




“I don’t know who to choose.”


I don’t know who to choose.”


Submissions from

Being a mother, a survivor, a woman - Part 30 - How to get over a brea up

How to get over a break up:

Get your gay best friend
Cook dinner together
Listen to music
Lit the candles
Dance in the living room
Talk about 14 years of friendship
Laugh together or laugh at each other
Smoke ;)
Curse your ex
Sing to Michael Jackson’s best songs
Back to 2001/2/3
Mummy is 20 again… SSSHHH! Don’t tell my Daughter!!!

Earlier, I wanted to leave this life, again, I was in so much pain…

But I am here…
I couldnt miss this great time now,could I?

Being a mother, a survivor and a woman - Part 29 - What about me?? Hey??

I met a male friend of mine, today and we talked about my ugly break up… It triggered things big time: Because of my past, I wasn’t able to love my ex sexually… and he clearly started to have doubts about our relationship when he met that woman… I broke up with him and he was free  to go to her… I think he even pushed me so I finish it for him…

I cant stop blaming myself: I didn’t fulfil his needs so he went to someone else… My best friend reminded me that, if it was truly the case, then it is another good reason to leave him behind. If he truly loved me, he would have been able to support me through it…

If he really cared, he would have found the courage to, at least be honest with me, out of respect.

The thing that strikes me the most is that I keep telling myself: I didn’t fulfil his needs. Wait a second though: what about me in all of this?? What about my needs? I always forget about myself… I always think I didn’t do enough or I wasn’t enough so that is why I keep being hurt: people leave me for someone better who isn’t so damaged…

So what about me? What did I want. We talked about going back t basic with no sexual touch… I wanted to slowly get to know him, get to be comfortable with him, to explore him gently. He wasn’t really keen on the idea: for him kissing, holding each other was always a mean to an end…

I just wanted to be held and to feel the love without it to turn into sex… I wanted to feel loved in other ways…

What is wrong with that? NOTHING???

My heart hurts … again…

My love

my love.
Hope you find solace in her arms, my love.
Hope you forget all about us,
my love.
Hope you dance your worries away,
my love…
I am just a memory now,
my love
my love….