“Not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring. Some of them love us very much. Many of them have good intentions. Most are harmful to our existence simply because of their needs and presence in the world The way we exist forces us to compromise ourselves and our happiness. They are not inherently bad people, but they are not the right people for us ~ Daniel Koepke.
If someone had asked me a year ago if I would cut ties with my mom, my answer would have been no.
After reconnecting with my father in 2020 (we hadn’t spoken in over eleven years), I decided to approach the parent company’s business differently.
Part of me firmly believed that if I could heal and do this inner work correctly, I would be able to find a way to coexist with my parents, and I had to do that at all costs.
My mom and I were always very close. As bad as our relationship was, I believed our bond was unbreakable.
She often calls me a rainbow baby because she lost my sister to a shooting before I was born. After my sister died, they told her she would never have another baby. A year later she got pregnant and I was born. Everyone said she was crazy and I believed it.
Although there was a lot of abuse and violence going on in our family, I saw her as a person who was fighting for her life to escape past trauma while losing herself to a bottle of vodka to numb and escape.
I believe this is why I have always had an unsettling drive to not give up and be defined by my past, while never shying away from addressing it. I saw the consequences we face when our souls are not healed, and how unresolved trauma drives everything.
When I read this book, I saw clearly for the first time how toxic my relationship with my mom was and the impact it had on me Silent seduction: When parents make their children partners Author: Kenneth M. Adams, 2020.
This is the most difficult yet most revolutionary book I have ever read. I remember several times I had to put the book down and take a deep breath to digest the profound realities I saw within it. A turning point.
Over time, her drinking became uncontrollable. I think she lost the desire to fight her addiction, which she had always had before. Even though we lived on two different continents, I started seeing messages on Facebook where she was attacking me, calling me names, asking me to give her more money.
So in December 2023, after repeatedly begging her to get help and threatening me to stop talking to her if she continued like this, I decided to keep my word. I ended contact with her for the first time. Since then, we have had no contact. This decision and regular reflection on it taught me four things about therapy.
1. Pain doesn’t always go away.
Someone once told me that my pain about my mother would eventually subside. Even though I’m getting better at handling the situation internally, I know the pain doesn’t always subside. I had to learn to bear it with grace.
How do we let go of the pain when we watch someone we love destroy them and there is nothing we can do about it? This pain comes from love, not from other people hurting us. To me, these are two different types of pain. While it’s up to us to learn how to deal with our emotions, when we love, we also get hurt.
The two practices that have helped me the most are accepting the things I can’t change and allowing myself to release how I feel instead of stuffing it up. I don’t try to suppress my emotions or trick myself into saying I don’t care when in fact I do. I choose not to shy away from emotional discomfort and take time to reflect on my progress in this no-contact situation.
I also see my pain as a sign of my ability to love deeply. Understanding that my ability to feel pain mirrors my ability to feel love helps me ground myself and befriend the pain in a way, rather than reject it.
2. It is important to respect our recovery.
There is no right or wrong way to treat. This is one of the most complex and imperfect paths we’ll ever walk, and respecting it every step of the way is the only thing we “should” do.
For years I felt so guilty about not being able to help my mom. I felt like a failure, healing myself with women all over the world, but unable to help the woman who gave birth to me.
Only those who have dealt with someone close to an addict can understand the pain this causes. After a while, we realize that the only thing to do is to sit back and watch the tragedy unfold, as if we were watching a heart-wrenching movie, while understanding that only addicts can help themselves.
It took me years to come to terms with my inability to resolve this situation while focusing on the pain I was feeling.
Often, when a person struggles with alcohol or drug addiction, the focus is understandably on them. However, those around them are also affected. For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with the desire to turn my back on my mother, while feeling ashamed of my own desires.
Eventually, I started to notice how this was affecting me and distance myself from people who said things like, “But this is your mom.” I knew, and still do, that this was my mom and that I loved her dearly. I also noticed these comments coming from people who may have never been in my shoes.
As Brené Brown said, “You share your story with those who have the right to hear it.” This is especially true when it comes to our stories of shame. Sometimes I think about how much easier my life would be if my mom died and I didn’t have to deal with her alcoholism. After a while, I felt overwhelmed with shame and blamed myself for ever having these thoughts.
Today, I choose to own my shame story and work on forgiving myself. I know these thoughts come from desperation and a desire to escape addiction, which to some extent I did when I moved to the United States
Recognizing its roots while giving myself compassion and forgiveness helped me overcome my unmet expectations for her recovery while becoming more resilient in the face of our dysfunctional relationship.
3. Sometimes we have to love people from a distance.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned on my healing journey is this: Love does not equal presence. Love needs to exist is attachment.
Eventually, I learned that I could love my mom but choose not to be around her because it wasn’t healthy for me. Of course, this came after a series of internal struggles and it really pushed me beyond my comfort level.
The biggest struggle for people who come into contact with an addict is choosing when to leave or when to continue fighting for them. This is often accompanied by doubt because we don’t want to give up on them and we constantly question whether we are trying our best to assist.
But when we choose to distance ourselves while keeping love in our hearts, we are respecting our own mental health while still loving those who are struggling. We know that their path is not ours and that our mental health, recovery, and lives are just as important as theirs.
4. When we choose to understand, we are better able to heal.
One thing that helped me in repairing my relationship with my mother was to look at her life from a perspective of curiosity and understanding.
At first, I used this understanding to forgive her behavior while holding a lot of anger and resentment toward her. Although I call her every day and send money every month, I still resent her as a mother. As I progressed in my recovery process, I realized that only by honoring what was true for me could I understand her behavior and heal the pain of my past. That is to keep distance and no more contact.
This helped me see her with more compassion, taking into account everything she went through as a child and the fact that she hadn’t done any therapy work (coming from a time when mental health was taboo). It also helps to realize that she really tried. I know she did. I think knowing this is the most painful thing.
Reflecting on my mother’s life and understanding her, while healing myself, helps me move past her behavior while knowing that whatever she did, it had nothing to do with me. It’s not because she doesn’t love me, it’s because she doesn’t know what to do with her demons.
It also showed me the importance of making healthy choices for myself. In a way, I’m learning to keep her in my heart while also keeping my happiness there. It taught me that there is no right treatment when it comes to recovery.
As of this writing, my mom and I haven’t spoken in seven months. As I prepare to go home for Christmas, I plan to meet up with her and talk face to face.
While I don’t know how the conversation will go, I know that whatever is true for me in that moment, whether it’s reconnecting or staying current, I will obey what my soul is telling me.
Because listening to how we really feel, and then honoring it, no matter what it looks like, is the only thing that can heal us and set us free.
About Sylvia Turonova
Silvia Turonova is a women’s mindset coach who guides women toward emotional healing while helping them live lives of wholeness, balance, and inner resilience. She enjoys writing and serving women through her blog. You can learn more about working with her and her one-on-one coaching program COACH Intensive here, or get her free self-coaching worksheet here.
