It just came to me. Right now.

I have asked, Why is it so hard to let go of that hope of having a mom who cares?

And, Why do I feel so lonely, at times? Why do I have to NEED someone to talk to? Why is that the only thing that makes me feel better?

It is my need for validation.

When you think about a mom, what comes to mind? I think of the mom I am trying to be–the mom who holds her kids, loves them unconditionally, and works so hard to validate their feelings and emotions. They are SO, SO enough. They are amazing. And I love them.

I don’t have that mom. My mom is incapable of setting aside her own emotional needs to cater to mine. She loves me, in her way, but my feelings and my emotions were never allowed, much less celebrated and validated.

Yet, because of the image I have–because I can see and feel–what I am missing as I rear my own children–it becomes that much more painful as I realize that I can’t get that from her.

I wish….and I want someone to love me as much as I love my own kids.

So, I start to look for validation from others. In my relationships. My marriage. My friendships. I try hard to find it in myself–yet, fail, over and over again.

I am a processor. Talking things aloud, venting my emotions, just letting the words out–these are powerful ways of lessening my own stress. They become even more powerful when others hear my words and validate my feelings. In fact, most times, I have trouble accepting and validating my own emotions—I need someone to just tell me that what I am feeling is right–it is okay. It is almost like I have to take a poll–how many people can agree with me that I am not crazy?

If I don’t have this person to talk to, to vent to, I hold it in. I ruminate over it. I think and think and think and think. I can’t let it go.

I think I have always been this way. I have always needed a safe person or two to talk to and just know that it was okay. There have been times when that person just didn’t exist, and I attempted to find it in my own mother–those times showed me how dangerous that could be–often, my own words were used against me.

Right now, at this point in my life, I have others. I have people that I can give bits and pieces of information to. And that has been helpful. It has made me feel more loved and accepted. But, I also so desire to have a relationship where I am fully known. Fully accepted. Honest and open.

Maybe that is a naive thought to have at age 30. I don’t know.

All I do know is that, on days like today, where I am aching and hurting, I need to know that I am okay. I need to hear those words from another human.

I need to know that my existence means something to someone else. That I am worthy. That I am not the way other people can make me feel.


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