Why do so many children cut ties? The answer is shocking 😱 😳👇See more

This week, Chloé Thibaud wonders if it’s possible to be a feminist and cut ties with one’s (toxic) mother…

“Stop stuffing yourself, you’ll end up obese!”, “A 12 in French? With all the books I buy you?”, “You know if you stay this clumsy… no one will ever love you!” Have you ever heard these phrases? In Dear Mother (Glénat), Alix has everything to be happy – a job she loves, a loving husband, three children – and yet, something is wrong. This something has no name, no face; it’s a shadow that hangs over everything. The shadow of a “mother” who isn’t really one. “Those words, ‘you’re beautiful,’ I’m pretty sure my mother never said them to me,” the heroine confides. “At least, I don’t remember it.” I read this graphic novel by Sophie Adriansen (script) and Mademoiselle Caroline (art and colors) just before Mother’s Day. Deeply moved by the accuracy and realism of this story, I first realized how lucky I am to have a mother who has told me “I love you” almost every day since I was born. Then I became aware of the number of people around me who have suffered or are still suffering from not being in that situation. “According to experts, 20% of the population grew up with a ‘toxic’ parent,” we read on the back cover. Sophie Adriansen is one of them; she drew inspiration from her own story to write it. “It took me a very long time to become aware of this maternal toxicity,” she explains. “I felt like a failure in my mother-daughter relationship. I had to confront this idea that you are necessarily an ungrateful daughter if you question your mother’s point of view, if you don’t say ‘yes’ to everything, if you set limits. I had to feel ready to assert myself with my mother, against my mother, and that took time.”

If it takes time, it’s because the subject is still taboo.
The subtitle of Dear Mom is “Mothers Can Be Toxic Too.” The adverb “can be” is loaded with meaning. “Toxicity is starting to be addressed in marital and professional relationships,” admits Sophie Adriansen, “but the fact that the person supposed to love their child unconditionally from the day they’re born can have questionable behavior, yes, that remains taboo. In the eyes of society, you don’t have the right to resent your mother. To say you resent her is pure ingratitude, because this person gave you life, potentially sacrificed herself. So, not acknowledging this ‘eternal debt,’ saying you refuse to feel indebted, that you choose yourself, that you prioritize your own existence, is extremely frowned upon.” Because she chose to prioritize her own family, Sophie Adriansen faced judgment from those around her. “When you don’t have that type of mother, you don’t believe it exists and you think it’s an exaggeration.” So, how do you know if your mother is truly toxic or just normally annoying? On page 182 of the graphic novel, the author shares a “Do You Have a Toxic Parent?” quiz with fifteen questions such as “Does your parent sometimes make fun of you? / Do they sometimes criticize you? / Do they sometimes praise you? / Do they sometimes make you feel guilty? / Do you feel like nothing you do is good enough for your parent?” Of course, you might answer “yes” to some things, but that doesn’t mean your mother is jeopardizing your mental health. “As parents, we can all be toxic at times,” comments Sophie Adriansen. “The difference with classic conflicts is the permanence, the recurrence, the density of the remarks, the fact that there is no respite or that this respite is an alternation of hot and cold, which results in never knowing where you stand.” I shared this questionnaire in a story on my Instagram account and I received more than fifty testimonials from women (and three men) whose mothers ticked most of the boxes.

Simone
Marie, 50, the eldest of four children, tells me: “We had a happy childhood because we ‘lacked for nothing’. Except for our mother’s love. I have no photos of myself as a baby in her arms, no memories of her accompanying me to sports… and above all, never any encouragement, never any praise. Always reproaches. Even when I gave her a gift. My whole life was devoted to pleasing her, in vain.” The same goes for Fanny, 34: “Zero encouragement, only criticism since childhood. Never good enough, even when I got good grades, always putting down those around me to distance myself. I started my working life with zero self-confidence, always very anxious, and with my main goal being to be perfect and for everyone to like me. I had to endure her phone calls for years, even though she knows I hate them. They lasted an hour and a half, and I had to be her therapist because all she did was complain.” Many women have chosen to cut ties because they felt so suffocated by their mother-daughter relationship. This is the case for Clothilde, 46: “I no longer speak to my mother because it was impossible for me to feel bad every time we talked. My mother always positioned herself as a rival to me. When I was a child, I excelled at school, but she would just tell me ‘that’s normal’ in a curt tone. In my teens, she would tell me repeatedly that I wasn’t ‘feminine’ and that she, at my age, had loads of suitors. At the same time, as soon as I tried a more feminine style, she would forbid it, saying it was vulgar and that I ‘looked like a whore.’ She also neglected me a lot; I spent my childhood sometimes waiting for her for two or three hours after my activities. Her authority was erratic: she would forbid me everything and then let me do whatever I wanted.” Despite the suffering, it can sometimes take decades to realize that this treatment, this control, is not normal. “I spent years thinking her behavior was normal, then excusing it, then telling myself it was my fault she was like that,” confides Jeanne, 28. “I realize now that she really behaves like a stalker. I’m grieving the mother I thought she was—she sold me her myth, stylish daughter, cool and brilliant mom—and I’m grieving the one I should have had. I’m my own mother now, I’m taking care of myself. I regret that she let the demons in her head and from her childhood come between us.”

In talking with dozens of women, I quickly realized that their ages varied greatly. Does this mean that this maternal toxicity has nothing to do with belonging to a particular generation? “Since the comic book came out, through messages or at book signings, the illustrator and I mainly see women, but also men, who say, ‘The mother in the book is my mother,’ and sometimes, ‘She’s my father,’ but I’ve noticed that it concerns people of all generations!” reports Sophie Adriansen. “I’m 42 years old, and I meet women twenty years younger than me as well as women my mother’s age, which reveals a pattern, a way of functioning that transcends the era. We initially thought there was a generational aspect to it, perhaps linked to the children of May ’68 who are reacting to overly strict upbringing or reproducing certain things… But no, it concerns women of very diverse ages and backgrounds.” Questioning one’s mother, grandmother, but also one’s sister, best friend, or boss, can seem difficult in a time when we are increasingly called upon to show solidarity with one another. In this sense, would cutting ties with one’s mother be an anti-feminist act? “I would tend to think the opposite,” the author replies. “If we cut ties because it proves necessary or because we are creating distance, it means we are rejecting the mechanisms of domination at play. Taking back control of one’s life, one’s own path, is rather feminist, isn’t it? Mothers who seek at all costs to exert this domination are reproducing something patriarchal.” Feminist education can even be one of the tools that helps you cope better with a toxic mother, as Léa, 30, explains to me: “At 26, I had a constant feeling of failure and inferiority, until I met a 50-year-old colleague, single and childless, who said to me, ‘Your mother isn’t very feminist, is she!’ I asked her to explain what feminism was because—no joke—between my closed-minded background and my seven years of medical school, my knowledge was limited. It was a revelation to realize that 100% of my pain came from the patriarchy, which my mother also suffers from, along with my father, and which she reproduces on me… Feminism allowed me to detach myself from all of that. Today, I want to be as active as possible in activism to flourish and, I hope, help other women do the same.”

If you have questions about your relationship with your mother or someone close to you, I highly recommend reading Dear Mom, which will undoubtedly lead to a greater awareness. “We don’t have to break things off, but we also don’t have to stubbornly cling to a relationship that hurts us,” concludes Sophie Adriansen. I would add, for those who aren’t victims of toxic parents but witness this kind of relationship, that this book helped me finally put an end to the infamous, and incredibly damaging, “But still, she’s your mother…”

Simone loves it: Chloé Thibaud’s recommendations.
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve been careful about my weight.” This is the first sentence of Juliette Lenrouilly’s book, Affamées (Fayard), and it resonates particularly with today’s episode. In one out of every two testimonies I collected, the women told me about their mothers’ remarks about their weight. What if, whatever our weight, we’re always “too fat”? The journalist conducts an eye-opening investigation “into the culture of thinness” and focuses in particular on the phenomenon “recently dubbed the ‘almond mom.’” She explains: “In the world of the ‘almond mom,’ being thin is paramount, and if you’re hungry, a few almonds should suffice.” I liked the fact that she gives a voice to many witnesses – particularly the women around her (including her mother, by the way) – and it’s a rather judicious read as we approach June, during which, spoiler alert, we’ll inevitably hear about this damn “summer body”!