We talk about everything now. Trauma, therapy, childhood, the things that happened to us, and the things we are still working through. Almost everything is fair game.

Except this one.

When the relationship with your mother is a painful one, the cultural agreement is that you keep it to yourself. Someone mentions a mother who was cruel, neglectful, or absent, and within a beat, somebody else is saying she did her best. She sacrificed for you. You only have one mother. If she has passed, do not speak ill of the dead.
The pushback comes from outside and from inside. Most women I work with say these lines to themselves long before anyone else does.

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Why the Silence

Mothers are sanctified and vilified at the same time, held to impossible standards, and treated as untouchable. To criticize a mother can feel sacrilegious because you are criticizing the person who gave you life.

Many of us were also raised to protect our mothers’ feelings above our own. For a child, staying silent is less about loyalty and more about survival. You needed her. So you learned not to say the thing, and that training does not end when you grow up.

What Happens When We Stay Silent

You cannot heal what you are not allowed to name.

Unexamined mother wounds do not stay where you put them. They come out sideways. They shape how you relate to other women, how you receive care, and what you tolerate in friendships and partnerships.

I had a client who came to therapy struggling with her female friendships. She kept attracting women who were entitled, possessive of her time, and jealous of her other friends. We worked on the friendships for a while, but the pattern would not shift.

Eventually, she told me a story from before she got married. She had gone to her mother and told her how badly her fiancé was treating her, how controlling he was, how she did not think she should marry him. Her mother said he was a good provider, he was good-looking, and if it did not work out, she could always get divorced.

The little girl in her had been protecting her mother her whole life, especially because her father was abusive. Many women with father wounds also have mother wounds. Once we went to the original injury, the friendship pattern shifted. She became the observer of her own responses instead of the one trapped inside them.

The Cultural Conversation Is Starting to Open

A few women in public life have been brave enough to tell the truth about complicated mothers, and they are giving permission to many women who have not yet found the language.

Jennette McCurdy wrote a memoir called I’m Glad My Mom Died. The title is provocative, and she meant it to be. Inside the book is a detailed account of enmeshment, emotional abuse, financial abuse, and an eating disorder her mother actively encouraged. Liberation came after her mother died.

Brooke Shields has spoken about a mother who did not protect her, including from the sexualized work she was put into as a young child. She has also disclosed being sexually assaulted as an adult. The connection between those two facts is not a coincidence. When a child is not protected by the parent whose job is to protect her, she absorbs the message that she is not worth protecting.

Drew Barrymore has talked about being exposed to adult environments from a very young age, including the well-known photographs of her at Studio 54 at age seven, and has described her mother more as a friend than a parent. That is parentification.

You Do Not Have to Hate Her to Have a Wound

Before you do any work on a mother wound, give yourself permission for the work itself.

You can love your mother and have a mother wound. The wound does not require extreme abuse. Negligence leaves its own scars. If your mother never did her own work, never took responsibility for the ways she failed you, you may carry an active wound that shows up in your adult relationships.

Naming a painful pattern is not indicting someone. This work is about you. The goal is understanding, not blame. The adults who raised us are responsible for their side of the street, but blaming them does not free you. You are grown now. The work is yours.

Most of you know I have a father wound. For a long time, I held a two-dimensional story where my father was all bad and my mother was all good. A therapist finally pushed back on that and helped me see that I could love my mother and honestly look at the ways she failed me. Both could be true.

If this brought anything up for you, this guide is here to support you.

What Healing Actually Looks Like

You will hear people say forgive and forget. Move on. Be the bigger person. A lot of that comes from people who have not sat with a real mother wound. If your mother was emotionally, physically, or sexually neglectful or abusive, “let it go” is not healing advice. It is silencing disguised as wisdom.

Healing looks like tending to the wound. Telling the truth about what happened, soothing the child who lived through it, and integrating the experience instead of denying it. When the wound is tended, you no longer need to act it out in your relationships. Curiosity about your own story is not a betrayal of anyone. It is the beginning of liberation.

If this is resonating, my Mother Wound course is opening soon. It is a safe container for understanding and transforming your mother wound, whatever shape yours takes. I would be honored to lead you through it.

As always, take care of you.

Terri Cole Answers Your FAQs From The Week’s Blog

What is a mother wound?

A mother wound is the lasting emotional impact of a painful or unmet dynamic with your mother or mother figure. It does not require extreme abuse. Negligence, emotional unavailability, enmeshment, role reversal, or chronic criticism can all leave a wound. If your mother never did her own work and never took responsibility for the ways she failed you, you may carry one without realizing it.

Can you love your mother and still have a mother wound?

Yes. Loving your mother and acknowledging the ways she hurt you are not in conflict. Naming a painful pattern is not the same as indicting someone. This work is about you, not about staging a case against her.

Should I forgive my mother to heal?

Forgiveness is a personal decision and not a prerequisite for healing. The pressure to “forgive and forget” often comes from people who have not sat with a real mother wound. If your mother was emotionally, physically, or sexually neglectful or abusive, “let it go” is not healing advice. Tending to the wound is.

Do I need to confront my mother to heal?

No. Healing happens internally. Telling the truth about your experience, soothing the child inside who lived through it, and integrating the experience are the work. A direct confrontation may or may not be part of your path, and it is not required.