Reclamation, Reconnection, Reparenting

I had a wonderful conversation with a friend on Mother's Day. We were talking about the difference between raising boys and raising girls. I am fortunate to have two sons and two daughters. I adore being a Mumma Bear to all four. I have learnt so much as the mother of two beautiful men, but have recently realised a huge bonus in the privilege of raising two daughters.

Raising daughters is a profound act of self-reclamation. It’s an incredible opportunity to reparent ourselves. As a woman, I get to go back - back through all the stages, back through all the moments. Every moment I choose for one of my girls, I get to think about my own choices. The things I chose, the things I accepted, the things I dealt with.

I get to choose for the girl I used to be. The one who was told to be smaller, quieter, less. The one who learned to shrink herself to fit the shape of what was acceptable. The one who played the game because nobody showed her there was another option.

I get to reparent myself through them.

When I choose to let her be loud, I'm giving permission to the version of me that was hushed. When I tell her her feelings make sense, I'm parenting the girl who was told she was too sensitive. When I encourage her to go after what she actually wants, not what looks good, not what's safe, not what will make everyone else comfortable! 

I’m finally able to say out loud what someone should have said to me years ago. “You are allowed to want things. You are allowed to be exactly who you are.”

But it goes further than that. The older I get, the more I understand that my daughters don't need me to be perfect. They need me to be real. To live my life visibly. To pursue things that light me up. To set boundaries without guilt. To walk away from things that diminish me. To disagree with people I love. To be someone who exists beyond the role of mother.

Because they are watching.

Not for instruction. For evidence. Evidence that a life like that is actually possible for a woman.

My mother's generation was handed a script. Social conditioning wrapped in politeness, duty, and the quiet understanding that a good woman doesn't make too much noise. They did what they were told. They played the game the way they were told it had to be played. Many of them did it beautifully and with love. But love and limitation can exist in the same house.

I love that we get to write a different script. Not by raging against the one we inherited, but by living so differently from it that our daughters never quite believe it was the only option. They won't know what they escaped because it was never their cage to begin with!

That's the work. That's the gift.

Our daughters don’t need a mother who has it all figured out;
they need a mother who is brave enough to figure it out in front of them. 

To say "I don't know, let's find out." To say "I got that wrong, I'm sorry." To say "watch me try this anyway." To show them that becoming yourself is not a destination you reach,  it's a practice you choose, over and over, for the rest of your life.

I think about the women our daughters will become. The women they'll be when they're our age. And I hope what they carry from us isn't a set of rules. I hope it's a feeling,  a bone-deep knowing that they are free to be themselves.

Because we were brave enough to go first.

Reclaiming yourself is not a one-step process! You don't do it once and tick the box. The conditioning runs deep. The old patterns are comfortable. And the world will keep nudging you back into the version of yourself that's easier for everyone else to manage. So the work is ongoing. Not heavy, not dramatic, but deliberate. We need regular check-ins. If you need a few days away to reconnect with who you are or who you are becoming, then come to Repotted Retreat on 13th–15th November.